


Wolf Pack

by Dosteriia



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Curly is a little shit, Don't mind me just giving Pony more friends, Fluff, Greaser/Soc solidarity, I had to change my tags cause that relationship wasn't subtle, IDK how guns work, M/M, Pony is dramatic 24/7, Ponyboy's POV, The Gang as family, Underage Smoking, Werewolf transformations are scary wtf, Werewolves, occasional strong language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2020-10-27 04:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 29
Words: 36,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dosteriia/pseuds/Dosteriia
Summary: Werewolves? in MY Tulsa? It's more likely than you think.Ponyboy is as normal as it gets. He's a freshman in high school. He does track. He's a greaser. The rest of the gang? Totally normal too if you ignore the fangs and the fur and the heightened senses. Yeah, totally normal.*Updates every/every OTHER Thursday





	1. Dog?? Wait no, that's a wolf

Darry was gonna kill him. He’s going to step into that house and Darry is gonna be sitting in his recliner, all cool-like. It’ll be dark when he first entered, but then Darry would turn the lamp on, revealing his disappointment. He’s gonna say a few words and poof! He’d be dead. Although in his defense, it’s not like he planned to be out this late. The drive-in was having technical difficulties.

The movie didn’t start until twenty minutes after he told Darry it would start. Aw man, he’s gonna be like Rapunzel and be locked away in the house forever. The full moon was out, giving everything this gastly glow and providing light when the flickering street lamps can’t. He wanted nothing more than to be home right now or in a car with Two-Bit or Dally or, hell, even Steve. Any hope of getting a ride home was gone when he remembered he doesn’t have a phone to contact anyone.  


There’s payphones, but he doesn’t carry coins, or any money for that matter, on him. He tugged his jacket closer to his body. At least Darry can’t yell at him for that. The sound of bushes rustling filled the air. It’s just a wild animal, but that didn’t stop his heart from racing and the immediate fear that it was a Soc flooding his veins. Steely blue eyes peered into his own. “Oh,” he breathed.  


It was definitely a canine of some sort. He couldn’t tell if it was a wolf or just a large stray in this light. He slowly inched his hand towards it. He’s not going to touch it. He’s not that stupid. It seemed wary of him, but then its warm breath passed over his fingertips. Now that it was a bit more in the light, he can say with certainty that it’s not a large stray. Considering he wasn’t attacked yet, he supposed it didn’t really matter. It even allowed him to pet it, though he wasn’t sure if it enjoyed the petting in the slightest. You know, it kind of looked familiar. It looked a lot like- “Dally,” he ignored the raised hackles and continued. “You look a lot like him. You both got this mean look to ya.”  
It tossed its head back and gently nipped at his hand. Rude. He stood up and brushed himself off. Well, if he wasn’t late before, he is most definitely late now. He jogged the rest of the way home with the wolf right at his heels. He expected at least one car in the driveway, but there was nothing. He was home alone. The house was just as dark and lonely as the outside. He lowered himself slowly onto the sofa. On the bright side, no one is here to scold him. Although, he did have this spine tingling feeling that he wasn’t safe. He didn’t bother with the lights. No one was here. It’s just him in the dark with a blonde- almost white- wolf standing guard at the front door. Occasionally, the wolf would glance over at him like it was concerned. That’s awfully nice of it. He patted the cushion next to him.  


The wolf hesitated before sulking over, huffing the whole time. What a drama queen. It took a couple minutes of struggling just to get the wolf next to him. He tossed his leg over it.  


“You are so stubborn!” it made a noise similar to a snort at that. “Come on, I thought we were bonding considering you haven’t eaten me yet.” He placed his cheek onto its fur. Probably not sanitary, but it looked pretty clean unlike most wild animals. “Will you stay until morning?” It was stupid to be talking to an animal in such a manner, but it responded to him and distracted him from imaginary danger. The wolf slipped out of his grasp. Oh, okay. Well, that kind of hurt, wow.

The wolf wrapped itself around him, resting its head on his. So there he was, in the dark, lying on his side tucked under a wolf that is more than capable of killing him. Yet, all he could think about was if he fell asleep he’d be in jeans and that’s weird. Soda does it sometimes. Probably to annoy him. Most definitely to annoy him. He really should at least put some sweats on. Eh.  


“I should name you since we’re the bestest of friends,” he yawned. He didn’t know what time it was, only that it was late and the warmth from the wolf is really making him tired. “Because you remind me of Dally, I’m gonna name you Tex. It’s short for Texas.” Tex growled, gently nipping at his ear. That name is so clever. Wolves just don’t appreciate pure, unadulterated genius when it’s right in front of them. Besides, it’s not like he can just refer to it as it forever. That’ll be tragic. It’s also safe to assume Tex is a male. Tex is certainly mean enough to be one. The big baby.  


Surprisingly, Tex is very...domestic. A lot closer to a dog than what you’d expect from a wolf. Granted, he knows nothing about wolves. His eyelids fluttered. Glory, he did not want to sleep in jeans. Tex lifted his head off. At least, someone isn’t about one blink away from passing out. That weird feeling was back and paired with Tex being antsy, well. It sure is a splendid time.  


Tex hops off the couch, tugging at his jacket. He complied. Mostly cause, Tex is ungodly amounts of strong and he’s far too tired to dig his heels into the floor. He allowed himself to be nudged upstairs. He was barely able to get his bedroom door open before Tex pushed him in with his nose. Soda didn’t even clean up his side of the room before he left. Jerk. He changed into some pajamas, making sure to take his shoes off as for some reason that slipped his mind. Tex kept pacing about, but he paid him no mind. All he wants is to sleep and to not have this crippling dread fill him.  
We don’t all get what we want though. Tex would turn towards him and look away and then turn back towards him. He got under the blanket. He wasn’t sure how he’s gonna sleep by himself, but that’s a problem for later. His brain felt like mush. Tex made a whining noise in the back of his throat.  


Tex came over slowly and tucked the blanket under his chin. He lingered for a bit before giving a, very, wet “kiss.” That was oddly sweet. It’s sure nice to know that this wolf you found off the streets was nice enough to give you a kiss by licking back your hair. He’s so going to have to wash his hair in the morning. Don’t get him wrong, it’s very touching, but the saliva. He could feel himself melting into the bed. Thoughts were mixing together. The last thing he saw was Tex looking at him one last time before leaving the room.


	2. Oh, hey! It's Two-bit!

He rubbed at his eyes, turning onto his side to curl up. He woke up several times last night. Tex came back from whatever it was that he did. He even had friends with him. Good for him even though in theory the other wolves shouldn’t have been able to get in here. At all. Although, animals are certainly way smarter than you’d think. He wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, but he had to shower and then style his hair precisely how he likes. The key is not adding too much or too little hair grease. If you add too much, then it’ll look super greasy and possibly sweat out onto your shirt. If you add too little, then what are you doing cause you basically did nothing.

He had the practice down pack. It’s why he’s average looking at best. The gang likes to compare him to Soda, who’s is way too good looking which is totally unfair cause he stole all the good genes. They probably just say that stuff to appease him. He groaned, rolling out of bed and into the cool hallway. The house was still empty or at least bizarrely quiet for this time of day. It made him uneasy. It was just him, no gang, no Tex, in this smallish house. He’s never left alone for this long. He can’t tell if that’s for his sake or the gang’s (except Steve who literally despises him for existing). Man, this sucks. He let the hot water run down him until it started to get cold. He’d feel bad, but, you know, no one is home. No one can be mad there’s no hot water except for like ghosts. Why would ghosts even need a shower anyway? They’re super dead. He wanted Tex back.

Maybe if he saw him again, Tex could introduce him to his friends or is it a pack? God, he doesn’t know. He ran a hand down his face, tossing on a Mickey Mouse hoodie that was probably Two-bit’s, but he has never seen him in it. He’s never seen anyone in it. Maybe it belongs to no one and it was left behind by some spirit and now he’s gonna be haunted cause he put it on. He rummaged through his sock drawer for a pack of cigarettes. He’s trying to quit. The smell is revolting and it’s really bad for track. His nerves are something awful though. What’s one smoke?

He sat on the porch swing. It was old and creaky, but Mom used to sit with him on this swing, so they’re gonna keep it until he got old and die of bronchitis or something. This cigarette was bitter like always. He almost burnt himself with the lighter; he was shaking that bad. 

Two-bit pushed their crappy gate open, sauntering down the sidewalk like he was the one who lived here. “Hey, kid.” he waved before plopping himself on the swing. 

“Hi, Two-bit.”

“You okay?”

“Huh?” for a second, he thought Two-bit knew something. Like, he somehow knows about Tex and how he was late when going home. “Oh! Um, I’m good.”

“You sure?” Two-bit cocked his eyebrows. What a signature Two-bit thing to do.

“I’m just dandy,” he took a drag of his cigarette.

Two-bit snorted. “Alright.” They sat in silence for a while. It wasn’t that uncomfortable silence where no one knows what to say and you’re just hoping the other says something so you don’t have to. It was nice. Two-bit stretched his legs out. “You wanna hang out?”

“Just us?”

“Yeah, it’ll just be you and me if that’s cool.”

“What would we do?”

Two-bit shrugged. “Whatever you want to do, pup.”

“Pup?”

“Yeah! Cause your voice is all high and shit like a little puppy.”

He kicked him, the older greaser laughing all the while. Two-bit had a nice laugh. It’s fun and goofy sounding like liquid joy. It’s kinda why he’s not even offended by the sound comparison. He put the cigarette out, leaving a burn ring on the metal. “You got any money, Two? I want Dairy Queen.”

“You’re making a poor, old fella pay for your meal?”

“Yes.”

Two-bit sighed, leaning all his weight on him. “You’re a mean little thing, but out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll pay for ya. You’re welcome.”

He hopped off the swing. “Come on, I want a milkshake.” The two of them walked the distance to Dairy Queen. It was kinda stupid considering Two-bit owns a truck and they could’ve just gotten into that. He tried to ask about the truck and the whereabouts of the gang only to get this cryptid wink.

Doesn’t answer the questions at all, but fine. Keep your secrets. They sat in this cute little booth and true to his word, Two-bit actually did pay for the food. They only got fries and a large milkshake to share between the two of them. It was nice hanging out with Two-bit.

He doesn’t know why he doesn’t hang out with him as often as he does Johnny or Dally or Soda. He even hangs out with Steve more, but that’s only cause Soda invites him to hang out with them. Two-bit would make these stupid jokes and blow wrappers at him. They walked around for a while, window shopping and stealing this lopsided keychain of a dog. 

The rest of the gang was home when they finally returned. Took them long enough. He had been waiting hours until Two-bit showed. Steve had a bag of peas on his eye and Dally had this cut on his lip. No one really answered his questions. Just deflected it to some other topic. 

“What’d you guys do anyhow?” Soda asked.

“Stole a dog keychain,” he was sandwiched between Johnny and Dally. He hooked the keychain onto Dally’s belt loop. “I told Two-bit to take it cause it looked like Tex.” Dally stiffened.

“Who’s ‘Tex’?” Darry swatted Soda away from the armrest of the couch. He’s a stickler for no one putting their behind on it. “Someone from school?”

“No, I found a stray... dog on the way home yesterday and named him Texas.”

“That’s a dumb name,” Steve snorted.

“Well, Steve is a dumb name.”

“Anyway!” Soda interrupted before Steve could say anything. “Darry, Tim wants to talk to ya.”

“Shepard?” Dally still had that keychain on him. Surprised, he hadn’t taken it off yet. “What does that poser want to talk to you about?” He picked a long white strand off of Dally’s shirt. It looked like Tex’s, but it also could just be from a girl. Sylvia and Dally are on a break and Sylvia doesn’t have this shade of blonde in her hair. He flicked the hair onto the floor.

“Do you wanna play cards, Johnny?”

“Blackjack?”

“Yep.” the cards were where they always were. The kitchen. They liked to keep it in there mostly because the table’s in the kitchen, so what’s the point of the cards being in the living room or at the bottom of a sock drawer. The game was fun enough, although after a while they just switched to goldfish. Two-bit wandered in at some point, complaining at how boring the others were being. It was weird that Tim Shepard, of all people, wanted to talk to Darry.

They’re probably going to talk about oldest brother things over beer and complain about how stupid younger siblings can be. He doesn’t know anything about that. Being the youngest and all. They were in the middle of poker (they kept switching games after a while. It’s hard to stick to one when you’re just trying to pass time), when Dally slumped into an empty chair.

“Let’s go to the drive-in,” he said it in a declaring way like it wasn’t up for debate. Guess, they’re going to the drive-in. 


	3. Werewolf transformations are actually really scary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the writing a little to be more comprehensive

The drive-in was nothing special by any means. Although, it  _ was  _ arguably the best thing in Tulsa. It’s neutral enough if you ignore the scuffles that happen when Socs and greasers mix. Pony had been there loads of times. It’s practically a second home. He hummed, tuning out Dally and Two-bit arguing about some stupid thing if Two-bit’s grin was anything to go off of.

Dally was tense. Well, tenser than usual. His jaw was set and his glare was cool and steely. Each word was snappy and had a sharp edge to it. For what it’s worth, Two-bit didn’t seem to care. 

“Oh, fuck off, Mathews!” Dally shoved his hands into his pockets. Two-bit laughed, loud and as goofy as it always was. The two then began taking joking (at least Pony sure hopes that they were joking) swings at each other. Johnny pulled Pony’s attention from the older greasers to him.

“Wanna tell me more about ‘Tex’?” he asked.

“I found him in the bushes,” Pony smoothed a stray strand of hair down. “He’s huge. If he stood on his hind legs, he would’ve been taller than me.” Johnny mumbled something about most things being taller than him. He shoved Johnny’s shoulder. “He looked a lot like Dally so..”

“Did you feel...safe with Tex?” Johnny’s brows were furrowed in thought. “Like if you were left with him for a night, would you mind?” What is this? Twenty questions?   


“I mean,” Pony glanced up at Johnny. “I wouldn’t..object to it. Why?”

“Y’know how Tim wanted to talk to Darry?”

“Sure.”

“Tim probably wants most of the gang to help with something,” Johnny fidgeted with the collar of his denim jacket. “You’d be alone and I know you hate that.”

“If I find Tex, I’ll be fine,” he nodded. “He’s a good listener.”

Johnny smiled a little, ducking his head. “What if you met another ‘dog’?”

“What’s with all the questions, huh?” Pony’s eyes were bright as they crinkled with his smile. “Are you an alien probing my brain to get a new host cause your old body is frail and dying?”

“Oh, definitely,” Johnny’s smile was bigger now. “It’s all a part of my big plan.”

“What is your big plan?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s top secret.”

Pony huffed, stomping his feet in a petulant manner. Johnny barked out a laugh at that. “To answer your question though, I love dogs. I’d be just as happy with any ol’ dog.”

The movie was this action flick. It was actually pretty good if you ignored the ending. It had this romantic subplot where the main guy loved this rich girl, but she was engaged to some other guy. She gets taken by the villain, so the main guy has to go after her. The worst part is instead of getting with the rich girl, the main guy got with some random girl who added nothing to the plot.

It made him want to claw his eyes out. On the bright side, he had the whole walk home to clear his mind of the pure indignation of the romance subplot. Pony’s friends seemed to be on edge. Johnny tried to hide that by asking about the movie and relaxing his shoulders. At some point, he ended up sandwiched between Johnny and Dally. It was like a shield, but made of tense greasers.

An engine revved behind them. A string of curses left Dally’s lips. Bright head-lights lit up the slowly darkening sidewalk. The street lights would turn on soon. Two-bit leaned over, placing his head between Pony’s and Johnny’s. “Alright, puppy. I need you and Johnnycake to run when I tell ya.”

“Two-bit?”

Two-bit traded nods with Dally. They clearly had a plan of some sort. “Don’t turn back no matter what you hear.” Johnny placed a hand on Pony’s shoulder.

“Two-bit.”

“Nope, listen to your elders, little puppy,” he glanced over his shoulder. 

“Two-bit.”

“Go!”

He didn’t have time to react before he was propelled forward by Johnny’s hand on his shoulder. He quickly managed to slip out of Johnny’s grasp. Y’know, track and all. Despite being told not to look back, that’s precisely what Pony did. He was never good at following directions.

The cracking of bones filled the air. Their bodies were distorting, lengthening into unnatural shapes. With horrifying realization, Pony noticed the bones were rearranging. It was becoming more...dog-like less of the skeleton structure that humans have. They were getting hairier too.

A howl sent prickles down his spine. All he saw before he passed a corner was a flash of white and snarls and growls. Werewolves aren’t some figment of imagination spawned to amaze audiences. They are real and Pony  _ saw _ it. You can’t make up such a sight of spine-numbing terror from absolutely nothing. He was going to be sick. He was always a dreamer and thought about outlandish stuff.

There’s something so terrifying about things that shouldn’t be real existing. Emotion flooded his body and eyes. It was weird to feel betrayal about not being told about something so out there. Who else did he know that are werewolves? Is that why they’re so aware of him? How their senses were better than most people? Why didn’t they tell him? Tears blurred his vision.

“Pony,” Johnny panted. “Pony, listen.”

“Did you know?” his voice was wobbly.

Johnny sighed. “Yeah.”

“Are you a werewolf?”

“Everyone in the gang is one,” Johnny stepped hesitantly closer. “We...we wanted to tell in a, uh, more delicate way. I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” After a pause, he held his arms open.

Johnny’s embrace was warm. Pony felt real awful about crying all over his jacket and for crying in general. Johnny rubbed small circles into Pony’s back. Eventually, they had to keep moving. They couldn’t go back for Two-bit or Dally. Pony couldn’t go back due to being human and Johnny couldn’t go back cause he could never leave Pony alone like this. Thoughts swirled around Pony’s head.

Things were different now. It’ll never be the same ever again.


	4. Hey, that's normal

Pony wanted to be mad. He wanted to scream and punch a wall until his knuckles bleed, but all he felt was exhaustion. He knew why they didn’t tell him, at least he thinks he does. That didn’t stop the sting of betrayal. Maybe, he’s just being dramatic. Steve and Darry always said he was overly dramatic and dreamy. Not being told isn’t some personal thing, yet he felt like he wasn’t trustworthy.

Although, who would believe werewolves are real? It’s far-fetched, but it’s very much real. Unless, this is a bizarre fever dream and Darry was right that he should start taking jackets with him cause he’s lying in bed right now slowly losing his grip on reality. Pony gave himself a pinch.

Nope, he’s awake. Johnny would glance over at him often, worry creasing his brows. He looked like a sad puppy which gives a lot of dramatic irony to those times Pony referred to his looks as puppy-like. Is that why Two-bit suddenly gave him the nickname of “Pup”?

He reminds them of a pup? That’s probably why Texas- no, Dally- gave him that “kiss” when they first met. He is the baby of the gang, though he wished he wasn’t Maybe if he was closer to Johnny’s age, he would’ve been told earlier. Then again, he probably would’ve thought they were joking.

Glory, everything is so confusing now! Why couldn’t he remain in ignorant bliss? Everything would’ve been so much easier. Pony’s thoughts wandered back to Dally and Two-bit. They’re some of the best fighters he knows other than Darry. Surely, they’ll be fine. Fighting is no big deal to them.

“How are ya holding up?” Johnny asked.

“Alright, it still kind of hurts.”

Johnny slouched over, hands in his pockets. “It’s something awful to be left in the dark.”

“When did you become a werewolf, Johnny?”

“When I got jumped. The first transformation was a doozy.”

“Really?”

“You feel everything shifting,” Johnny eyed him out of the corner of his eye. “And the noises are nightmare inducing.” Pony nodded slowly. He definitely knows that now.

“Will I become a werewolf?”

“No!” Pony startled at how passionate his declaration was. “Never!” Johnny opened the door for him. Darry was in the kitchen from what he could see. Soda was probably at the DX with Steve. 

Darry popped his head out of the kitchen. “Everything ok?”

“I know you guys are werewolves,” Pony blurted out. Nice. What happened flowed out of him like a raging waterfall. In fact, Pony thought he overshared a little at times with how much he talked. Darry sat there silently in his recliner. In any other circumstances, Pony would’ve been biting his nails from nerves. “The cracking noises were the worst part along with the bones shifting out of place!”

“You’re gonna have to have someone with you at all times,” Darry ran a hand down his face. “Whoever attacked you guys clearly doesn’t care about the fact that you're human.” Pony opened his mouth, but Darry held up a hand. “I’ll feel a lot better if someone was with you often.”

“Two-bit, Dally, and I will stay with him,” Johnny said. “We’re kind of already doing that anyway.” What’s with people and talking about others like they’re not right there? It’s annoying.

“Are the people who attacked us also werewolves?” Pony stretched his legs out.

“Get your feet away from the table,” Darry muttered. “Most likely. If they were human, Two-bit and Dally would’ve been back by now, especially if they’re in their wolf form.” 

“Do I have to be babysat often?”

“If you want me to not go gray from stress, yes.”

“Maybe, I want you to go gray.” Darry gave him a quick swat. Rude. It didn’t hurt, but still.

“It won’t be for long,” Johnny glanced at Darry who nodded. “It’s kind of like what we do with Socs only with...you know hairier people.” Pony snorted, picking at a loose strand on the couch. 

Darry stood up. “I need to call Soda to tell him that you know now.” 

“You’re handling all this pretty well, you know,” Johnny nudged his shoulder.

“Me? Oh no,” Pony shook his head. “I’m just trying to not think about it so hard.” 

Johnny smiled. “Yeah, had to do that too when I first became one.”

“Earlier I asked if I would turn into one and you said no.”

“You’re different,” Johnny leaned back. “You’re...softer and not to mention tinier.” Pony chose to ignore the short comment. It’s not like Johnny’s that tall either just taller than him by a couple inches. “You don’t fit the roughness of werewolves. I think you would’ve been a witch if they existed.”

“Yeah?” Pony leaned his head on Johnny’s shoulder.

“Well, you certainly wouldn’t be a vampire.”

“Can you imagine?” he stuck out his tongue. “Bleh! I vant to suck your blood.” He tried to bite Johnny’s hand. Not that he’ll actually do it, but he had to play the part, didn’t he?

Johnny pushed his head away, laughing. “You’re a terrible vampire.”

“I’m a great vampire!”

“You remind me of- of a puppy!”

“Is that what all of you think of me as? A puppy?”

“Yeah, you’re a pack member too.”

“Aw,” Pony placed his head back onto Johnny’s shoulder. “Now, I feel bad for feeling like Caesar being stabbed like twenty times on the Ides of March with the cold blade of betrayal.”

It was nice bantering with Johnny especially when it’s just the two of them. He loves the gang (except Steve sometimes), but nothing beats one-on-one time with someone. The moment didn’t really last long though. Two-bit and Dally came back. They were relatively unscathed although Pony did have to clean up a cut Two-bit got. It wasn’t from the fight according to him. Two-bit left no details out about the fight, clearly proud at how they kicked butt. Dally chimed in sometimes along with Darry who came back when they did. It was normal and easygoing. Earlier, he thought that everything would change. In a way, that is still true, but the normality, the comfort is still there. It seeps naturally into conversations and interactions. Maybe, everything will be fine. It can’t get any worse.


	5. Oh, no! It all went wrong!

This was just a hunch, but Pony was started to think that maybe the universe hates him. Like genuinely  _ despises _ him like how Steve despises him for being a tag-a-long which is a lot of hatred. He couldn’t hear much over his own ragged breathing and the blood pumping in his ears.

His legs burned something bad. It wasn’t the good burn he got from track. It was that burn you get from sprinting for what felt like hours with no break. It’s not like he could slow down anyway. Whooping and hollering could be heard from the Socs right behind him.

“Aw, come on grease!” one of them called. “We ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He said it so... threateningly. It caused that spine-tingling numbness he got that first encounter with Dally as a wolf. Bile pooled in the back of his throat. His thoughts swirled with the possibilities of what would happen if he stopped for even a second. He sharply turned into the alleyways by the track.

Of course, when he would really need it, the meeting place for the Shepard’s Gang was empty. Sweat stuck his hair to his forehead and seeps through his gym shirt. He couldn’t breathe. Every breath was agonizing and not nearly enough. If anything, he was just hyperventilating in a barely lit alleyway, running from Socs. So, a “normal” Monday. A hand tugged him out of the main alleyway.

A scream bubbled in Pony’s throat, but all that came out was a choked sob. Steve’s face was blurred by tears. Steve wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

“He ain’t a part of our business,” Steve hissed when the Socs caught up. “Leave ‘em alone or I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass, you’d feel and taste it for months.” They stayed like that, with Steve almost giving him a chokehold while he tried desperately not the cry. He’s not a baby. He can handle this. Everything is fine. “Quit crying,” Steve looked down at him.

“I’m not,” his voice cracked. He rubbed furiously at his eyes.

Steve cocked his head towards the school. “Let’s go.” 

It was hard to keep up with Steve’s long, but brisk strides. It wasn’t fair how fast he was walking when Pony only barely reached his chest. “Are we skipping?”

“Jesus, kid!” annoyance seeped into Steve’s voice. “We’re greasers!”

“But-”

“Are you coming with me or not?” Steve held open the locker room door. Pony ducked his head, walking inside. He wanted to take a shower, but he doubts Steve has the patience to wait. Besides, he doesn’t smell that bad. He discreetly sniffed at his shirt. Yeah, he’s fine. The wonders of deodorant. He may feel gross, but at the very least he doesn’t smell gross. Steve was waiting for him when he was done. With a hand on Pony’s shoulder, Steve guided him to where his car was parked.

The car ride was awkward. Steve wasn’t saying anything and he certainly wasn’t going to say anything. He fidgeted with the seatbelt until Steve snapped at him to stop. They pulled into Dairy Queen. Steve got out of the car and hesitated before looking him right in the eye.

“Stay here,” he leaned over and flicked Pony’s forehead. “I’ll be back.”

Jerk. Pony rubbed at his forehead. There was the telltale click of the car locking and Steve sauntered off. At least, Steve was nice enough to lock him in when he left. He leaned his head against the window. It was oddly nice of Steve to help him. He didn’t really have to. Then again, Darry and Soda would be upset and rip him a new one. Still, it was awfully nice of him and out of character.

He remembers when he was younger and how he used to quite like Steve. Then, Soda and Steve grew up and neither really wanted to hang out with some baby. Soda still invites him to stuff, but Steve clearly didn’t like it. Now, look at them. Steve can’t stand him and a very, very miniscule part of him is sad by that. But then, he remembered how much of a jerk Steve was and those feelings went away. Steve opened his door and gestured for him to get out.

Steve had a vanilla ice cream topped with sprinkles and chocolate drizzle. He sat on the hood of the car, patting the space next to him. Slowly, Pony sat down next to him. Steve handed him the ice cream, shoving a Twizzler into his mouth. Pony mumbled a thanks. Silence fell over them.

“Steve?” he got a grunt in response. Taking that as a sign, Pony continued. “What did I do for you to hate me?” Steve choked on the Twizzler, pounding his chest with his hand.

“Do you always ask tough questions?”

“Yes,” he plucked a stray sprinkle off his jeans. Steve leaned back.

“I don’t hate you, Pony.” Pony waited for him to elaborate, but he never did. “Listen, kid. I can’t lie and say you won’t be put into more situations, but, uh, keep your eyes open.” Steve flicked his forehead again. God, Steve’s the worst. “Quit having your head in the clouds all the time.”

“I like having my head in the clouds,” he straightened his back. “It means I don’t gotta pay attention to you.” Steve held onto the bottom of the cone and pushed it up. “Steeve!”

The ice cream was bitterly cold on the tip of his nose. He wiped his nose, ignoring the loud, booming laughter to the right of him. Well, it’s like that old saying always said, ‘an eye for an eye’. He returned the favor by crushing the ice cream against Steve’s face. Was it a waste of a perfectly good ice cream? Yes. Isn’t that the incomplete version of that saying? Also, yes, but really who says the complete version of ‘an eye for an eye makes the world blind’. That’s weird. The two of them bickered for a while, but it wasn’t the usual bickering. It was more..nice. Steve must’ve hit his head before gym.

“Hey!” a voice called out to them. Soda had his head out of the car window, grinning the million dollar smile he has. “You two hang out without me?” Pony jogged over and kissed Soda’s cheek.

“Your kid brother got ice cream all over me,” Steve grumbled. The two started talking about things that quite frankly Pony had no interest in. He was finishing off the ice cream when a buzzing happened at the back of his head. It was a brain freeze. No, brain freeze gives you that buzzing sensation. He looked around until his eyes settled on a figure across the street.

He or she weren’t close enough to get a clear description. Pony squinted like that’ll somehow help him see the person better. The buzzing was worse the longer he stared at them. What’s worse? The spine-numbing feeling from earlier or the buzzing. Vote now. His breath quickened. He thought he heard someone say his name, but there’s no way to tell. The figure turned straight towards him and the ground surged up to meet him.


	6. Two bros lying on a bed, 0 feet cause they're kinda gay

Sweat dripped from his hairline and down the length of his spine. Pony could feel his hair gluing to his forehead and the cool sweat stains of his shirt. God, he felt disgusting. He would’ve put his arm over his eyes if he hadn’t noticed the dark bruise blossoming across it. Touching it sent sparks of pain up his arm. It was honestly stupid to touch it, but it was a dark purple with gross hints of yellow.

It would’ve been kind of neat if it also wasn’t the grossest thing ever. He doesn’t even remember how he got such a bruise. A low whistle caused him to jolt so hard that his ribs hurt.

“Nice bruise,” Curly leaned against the door frame. “Where’d ya get it?”

Pony grasped at his shirt, trying to will his heart to stop racing. “ _ God _ , Curly,” he was sure his face was as red as those fake apples older ladies love to decorate their house with.

Curly plopped down next to him. He had to shift away a little because of how close Curly sat near him. He could count his eyelashes, that’s how close they were. “Your face is red.”

“I know!” his face was so hot that he wondered if Curly could feel it. “You scared me!”

“Sorry,” Curly wasn’t sorry at all. You could tell by the corners of his lips curling and how he sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “Heard you know about werewolves now?”

“Are you and Tim one?” he already knew the answer, but confirmation is always nice.

“Yep,” Curly leaned on his arm. “Becoming a werewolf is how you get in the Shepard’s Gang.”

“That’s..fun,” Pony scrunched up his nose.

“It’s a real blast,” Curly rolled his eyes. “It’s like the Greaser-Soc bullshit, but now a good chunk of us can turn into furry beasts that are way stronger than the average human.” 

“Oh, it’s just  _ amazing _ ,” Pony put his hand on his chest. He still had the gross feeling crawling around his skin, but he hadn’t seen Curly since he got put in reformatory and he missed the curly-haired idiot. Nah, the feeling was really getting to him. “You staying?”

“Why?” Curly leaned closer, grinning. “You missed me?”

“I’ll always miss you,” he caught Curly’s flustered expression on the way out. Pride bubbled in his chest. He wasn’t joking when he said that. It’ll be kind of messed up to joke around like that. He may not see Curly often, but hanging out with him was nice and always fun if a little chaotic.

The Gang didn’t like Curly much, but he sure did. Pony fanned at his face. It was really hot in here. The bruise was even more gross in the bathroom light if that was possible. Bathroom lighting makes everything look awful. It’s alway unflattering in some way even if you got really good bulbs. They used to have good bulbs, but then Two-bit and Steve broke one so now it’s just dull and sad.

It’s kinda like a metaphor for his life right now. Bad bathroom lighting and mysterious bruises. Fun times. Curly was still where he had left him, sprawled out halfway off the bed. Pony laid down gingerly next to him. Their heads knocked together a bit, which didn’t actually hurt but he mumbled an ow anyway. After a while, Curly turned towards him. “Wanna get food with me?”

“Someone from the gang will have to go too.”

Curly made a face. “Can’t a guy just take you out?”

“Not if he wants to live,” he leaned on Curly’s shoulder. “I can probably convince Soda to help me get Darry on board. That’s your real obstacle.” Technically, the rest of the gang was also an obstacle, but as an unofficial leader Darry’s word is law. You can’t go against it unless you want to get chewed out. It’s a dictatorship. “Even then, someone will still have to be with us.”

“That blows,” Curly huffed. “I think I’m gonna start being good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Curly nodded sagely. “Reformatory food is nasty.”

“Like the cafeteria food nasty?”

“No, worse cause they don’t care about a single person in there.” Curly shrugged which was awkward considering Pony still had his head there. “I wouldn’t go there if you could avoid it.”

“Darry would kill me if I ever went there.”

“Darry would kill you for a lot of things.” He wasn’t wrong. Darry would kill him if he did any of the things other greasers did or even what Soda does sometimes. He doesn’t do much anyway, but having options on stuff to do is nice even if you would never do it to begin with. Curly placed his head onto his. “It ever get exhausting, y’know, not being allowed to do shit?”

“Yeah,” Pony stared into the blues of Curly’s eyes before looking at the door. “It ever get exhausting being allowed to do whatever you please when you please?”

“Sometimes I think Tim’s gonna reel me in, but he’s just,” Curly did a jazz hands motion. “-So busy with werewolf business and running his gang.” He paused. “This is getting too deep.”

“But we’re bonding.”

“This is too much feelings for my reputation.”

Pony snorted. “What reputation? We’re in the same boat. So-and-so’s kid brother.”

“It’s very important to me,” Curly had a twinkle in his eye and was smiling an actual smile and not that stupid smirk he does. It was so nice. He should smile like that more. There’s just something about people who don’t usually smile having a grin on their face that just makes your pulse do a flashy, little somersault. Or maybe that feeling is for something else. He can’t tell for the life of him.

“Curly,” Tim’s voice carried up the stairs and boy is he loud. “Let’s go!”

“Well,” Curly made no effort to hurry up. “I’ll see ya around, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Pony missed the warmth Curly gave him. That’s the problem with sharing a bed with someone. When they leave, you’re all cold cause you can’t leech off of their body heat anymore. Curly saluted him and he was off, hands deep in his pockets. A real greaser pose. How cool.

With Curly gone, there was nothing to distract him from his thoughts. The figure from before he fainted in the parking lot of Dairy Queen flashed before him. He couldn’t breathe. Pony ran his hands insistently through his hair. He needed to tell Darry. He dug his palms into his eye sockets until his vision went white. If Soda hadn’t already told him, Darry needed to know. Darry, while harsh, always know what to do. Darry’s strong. He’s reliable. He’ll know what to do. If he didnt, Pony wouldn’t know what to do with himself.


	7. *Vine Voice* Just guys being dudes

Pony rested his forehead on the banister. Darry was sitting in his recliner, just rubbing at his temples. The rest of the gang was in the kitchen if the yelling was anything to go off of. He wanted to just tell Soda about who he saw, cause Soda is always open. It’s why he tells most things to Soda and not Darry, but Darry is more level-headed and gives more realistic advice to his problems.

God, why is everything so hard? Why can’t it be like the movies and be a whole lot easier? He’d have those fake pearl necklaces that break really easily and dramatically and he’d be feverish cause he’s just so stressed out. He’s practically halfway there. He already has the fever from being stressed. Oh! Maybe, they’d have balls with only greasers cause they don’t fraternize with socs. And there’d be this guy that no one likes cause he’s too prideful, but then he confessed his love at Pony’s cousin’s house and wrote a letter on what happened with the sleazy soldier and suddenly he’s not that bad. The guy had been in love with Pony for ages and the rejection helped him improve as a person. Then, they will get married anyway despite what the guy’s aunt says cause she’s actually the absolute worst.

“Pony, you ok?” Darry had this look of stress and concern on his face. A fun combination.

“Huh?” Pony lifted his head. “This is...a really nice banister. Very sturdy.”

Darry sighed like he was this big annoyance. “What’s wrong?”

“Before I fainted in the parking lot of Dairy Queen,” he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Was this even his shirt? It’s probably not. “I saw this figure and they give me the creeps.” He shifted from foot to foot. Darry wasn’t saying anything which is pretty bad cause he really should be saying something. “Also, I have this really big bruise on my arm and I don’t know where it came from.”

"Do you know what the person looked like?”

“No,” he traced circles into the railing. They weren’t very good circles. They were really lopsided and a lot closer to an oval if anything. “They were across the street at the light.”

“We’ll have to search that area then,” Darry didn’t seem like he was talking to him, but he listened anyway. “Maybe take up Tim’s offer to have an alliance.”

“An alliance?” Pony asked, finally stepping into the living room.

“Our packs will keep an eye out for each other,” Darry drummed his fingers against the armrest. “I haven’t agreed to it yet, but we’d cover more ground with them by our side.”

“Can I come?” it was a stupid question. There was no way he’d be allowed to come.

“If you stay by someone, then fine.”

“Really?” it isn’t such a good idea to push his luck, but Darry didn’t specify who he had stay near. “Can I stay with Curly then if he’s helping with the search? Pretty please?”

Darry sighed, tossing his hands up. “Yeah, sure.”

Pony leaned over, wrapping his arms around Darry’s neck and kissed his cheek. He saw it in a movie once. It was really cute. “Love ya!” And for extra measure, he kissed Darry’s cheek again.

“I’m serious, Pony,” Darry patted his hands.

“So am I.”

Darry gently detangled himself from Pony, making sure to avoid the bruise. “Stay near Curly even for silly things like the bathroom, you dig?” He nodded. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah,” Pony crossed his heart with his index finger. “We’ll be stuck like glue.”

“Alright,” Darry waved him off. “Go bother Soda for me, will ya?”

Giddiness bubbled in his chest. They were playing some game in the kitchen, but he could hardly focus on anything. He actually got permission to hang out with Curly. He must still be passed out. This is just a really elaborate dream. He pinched the wrong arm and honestly he never wanted to die more. On the bright side, he is very much awake and not dreaming, but now his arm hurts.

Pony pulled his jacket closer. It was weird having this many greasers on one tiny street corner with nothing but street lights lighting things. It was even weirder when you remember that other than him everyone was a werewolf. Darry was talking with Tim about whatever it was oldest siblings talk about. He was huddled near Soda, stealing whatever heat he can get. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the wind wasn’t blowing. The wind made everything about ten times worse. 

A hand tugged at his belt loop, forcing him to turn around. “Hey, baby Curtis.” Curly was grinning back at him. There was something so nice about Curly’s smile. He smiled at you like you meant the world to him. It’s nice to have someone smile at you like that. Makes you feel all warm inside. “Heard you were sticking with me tonight. A wise decision.”

“Yeah, well, I only make wise decisions.”

“Yeah?” Curly tilted his head. 

“Alright, boys!” Tim called. “Let’s get a move on.” Around him were the shifting of bones and the sprouting of fur. It may have been the second time he’s seen a transformation, but that didn’t make it less nauseating. Wolves staggered off into different directions. All except one.

The wolf kind of looked like a golden retriever with that coat. He nudged Pony with his wet nose before following a wavy, brown furred wolf that was most definitely Steve. Curly held out his hand and Pony let him drag him off to wherever it was that Curly had planned.

“Are we even going to look for clues?” he asked. It’s not like he wanted to look for clues cause believe him he doesn’t. It’s too dark for him to see anything and he wouldn’t know what to look for.

“Why?” Curly’s eyes were bright even with the crappy street lights. “You want to look for clues? No, we’re going to the river. No one should head that way. It’ll just be you and me.”

The river was murky with a greenish hue. It didn’t look too dirty just mythical. Curly kicked his shoes off and pulled his shirt over his head. Thank God, it’s dark out. His face was so hot that he could feel the heat radiating off it. “Jeez, Curly! Warn a guy next time!”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Curly winked at him before cannonballing into the river. “Come on!”

He set his jacket, shoes, and socks (wet socks are disgusting) beside him. The water was uncomfortably lukewarm. It was warmer than the land for sure, but at the same time not really. Curly had floated over, an easy smile on his face. “It’s cold.” It wasn’t. Not really.

“Want me to warm ya up?”

“Well, I’d sure appreciate it,” he crossed his arms. Curly hitched his hands under Pony’s thighs. They were warm and strong like how you’d expect a werewolf’s hands to be. He steadied himself by wrapping his arms around Curly’s neck. For a second, he was worried he was too heavy, but that’s a ridiculous fear once you remember that werewolves were definitely stronger than a human. It would be really lame if werewolves were just as strong as a normal human. “Hi.”

“Hey there, green eyes.” Normally, he doesn’t like his eyes. Way too many people who he isn’t fond of have green eyes, but with Curly his eye color wasn’t that bad anymore.

“You look like a wet dog,” he moved a wet curl out of Curly’s eyes. They were really blue. Not a bright blue like how sapphires are, but a more greyish blue. Were they always like that?

“I am a wet dog,” Curly wiggled his eyebrows. It was silent for a moment. “Your brothers are gonna kill me.”

“I won’t let them do that,” he rested his forehead against Curly’s. “They’ll have to go through me first.” Curly grinned at him. Pony was sure he saw something like this is a movie. It was so tender and intimate. It made his heart soar and he wanted to feel like this forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I really make an elaborate reference to Pride and Prejudice just so I could indirectly talk about it? Yes and I'll do it again


	8. It was getting too happy I had to ruin it

You wanna know something crazy? Pony could fall in love with Curly Shepard. He could be so in love with Curly that he couldn’t even think straight. Especially right now, both of them wet and cold, hands interlocked as Curly sang Elvis and Little Richard off-key. God, it was so easy to fall in love with him. Curly was always handsome in that weird way good looking people were handsome.

Every so often, Curly would look over at him like he wanted to see if Pony was having a good time. He was, of course, if you ignore that he’s shaking like a leaf. Curly was going through a rendition of Jailhouse Rock when he started to quiet down. His grip unconsciously tightened on Pony’s hand.

“Curly?” 

Curly leaned in, warm breath tickling Pony’s ear. He honestly would’ve thought Curly was gonna kiss him if Curly didn’t have this serious look on his face. “There’s someone behind us.”

“What?” he felt like he got socked in the gut. “You’re kidding.”

“You still do track?” Curly looked a lot like Tim when he’s like this. Slouching with this mean look of narrowed eyes. An alley cat. All he would need is Tim’s signature scar.

“Yeah, but-”

Curly let go of his hand. Like magic, the warmth was just gone, leaving nothing but the frigid air between them. He yanked a switchblade out of his pocket. “We’re gonna have to run.”

“Where would we even go?” Curly’s fingers settled on the small of his back, pushing him forward. “We can’t run forever. Not against some,” he tossed a hand up. “Bloodthirsty dog.”

“You trust me?”

“Curl-”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes-”

“You run ahead of me, you hear?” Curly’s eyes smoldered into the ice Pony almost always sees on Dally or Tim or any tough greaser who’s gonna be one until the grave. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Where would we even go?” Man did he really want to puke. If he was any more stressed, he probably would actually catch some bizarre fever that’ll leave him bedridden for weeks.

“Uh,” Curly glanced behind them, sniffing at the air. “Tim passed through here.”

“Is he still here?”

“His scent is a little fuzzy,” Curly pushed Pony in front of him. “But if we find him, then we’re golden.” His eyes were still on whatever was behind him. “Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he’s definitely ready if you ignore how panic was gripping his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. They just had to find Tim in the dark. Easy peasy. No Sweat.

“Go!” Running is always enjoyable until you’re in some form of danger. Being in danger makes it a thousand times worse. Blood was pumping in his ears. Nothing but the  _ babump babump  _ of his heart leaping into his throat. One things for sure; Curly was a man of his word. If he wasn’t a werewolf, Pony would’ve been very impressed at how well he was keeping up with him. His legs were starting to ache.

It wasn’t even that good ache you get from exercise. It was that bad ache when you want nothing more than to stop and relax. They couldn’t relax though. Not right now. He almost stumbled when Curly suddenly appeared right next to him. Curly grabbed hold of his elbow.

“Don’t fall for me yet!” he must think he’s so clever with a joke like that, but jokes on him cause Pony is ninety-nine percent sure he already did. “Get to the shed!”

The shed was an abstract shape against a dark background. It was nothing but a silhouette, but you can’t deny its existence. It was small and visually abandoned with the smell of rotting wood. It was a tight fit; Curly and him. He had to sit between Curly’s legs just to fit out of sight on the ground. Curly was tapping the switchblade against his leg. He wanted to say something, but now wasn’t the time. At all. It was far too tense with unease and anticipation polluting the air.

Curly rested his forehead against Pony’s. Just like at the lake but with an added pinch of danger. Curly flicked the blade out, holding it tight. A sniffing and growling noise came from the right of them. It was so close that it was almost as if whatever it was right on top of them. He hoped Curly couldn’t hear how ragged his breath was. That should be the least of his concerns, honestly.

The wood creaked behind him. Curly slowly wrapped his around him. “I got you.”

Normally, when people say that, it just seems like they’re saying that so you don’t freak out or something. Curly sounded sincere like he meant it and wasn’t just saying that to make him feel better. The growling was almost deafening now. Each growl sent a ripple through his soul and made his heart hammer like a drum. A warm breath brushed against his back and then the cold of the night. There was an opening in the shed.

A snarl then the sharp rap of a shoe hitting a wood plank. He didn’t think he even wants to know what’s happening behind him. He buried his face in Curly’s neck. He hated feeling useless, but realistically what would he even be able to do against a werewolf? Would this be a recurring feeling? A sense of utter uselessness that was always so spirit crushing? He didn’t want to feel like that.

Curly’s arm didn’t relax from around him. He seemed to be handling things pretty well all things considered. There was a shuffling behind them. Well, behind Curly, but in front of Pony. The low to high whistle characteristic of the Shepard’s gang pierced the air. It was shrill and loud.

Curly slumped against him, mumbling about how it took them long enough. They didn’t relax, but it wasn’t as tense as before. Just exhausted as they waited for the scuffle outside to come to an end. A howl rang in his ears and sent electricity up the length of his spine. Werewolves always howled in movies, but an actual howl about three feet away from him? Terrifying.

The shed door creaked open. “Took ya long enough,” Curly grumbled.

“You two look cozy,” Tim leaned against the doorway. “You alright, lil’ Curtis?”

“I’m gonna hurl,” Pony lifted his head. Self-consciousness made him want to hide, but that would be virtually pointless. He detangled himself from Curly, twisting to look at the oldest Shepard.

“Come on,” Tim cocked his head back towards where they came.

The three of them walked in silence. It was as clear as day how similar Tim and Curly were. Especially right now when they were right next to each other. Pony wondered if they knew that. Curly’s arm kept brushing against his until Pony sucked it up and just held hands with him. “Hey, Tim?”

“Hm,” Tim brushed off his leather jacket.

“Is...is the wolf still out there?”

Tim looked at him for a couple seconds. It made him want to squirm. “Yeah, he won’t be seen for a while. Fucked him up pretty good.” A tinge of pride bled into his voice.

“We heading back?” Curly asked. It was hard to focus with Curly rubbing his thumbs over his knuckles like that. Tim nodded and they fell into silence. Curly tugged on his hand, so they’d lag behind a little. He leaned closer. “Sorry about tonight. Almost dying wasn’t in the plans at all.”

“I would hope not,” he snorted. An all-black wolf trotted out of the woods followed by an off-white one and a rust-colored one. All the wolves he’s encountered were definitely a lot bigger than say a normal old gray wolf. Probably because they’re not one hundred percent a wolf. It was the first time he ever saw Johnny and Two-bit as wolves. There’s just no one else they could be.

Who else would have their features? He’d recognize them anywhere. Two-bit and Johnny seemed happy to see him. He could argue Dally was too, but Dally always smoothed his expressions into ones of collected calmness assuming he wasn't angry about something.The wolves didn't change back into their human selves, instead walking in the general space around Pony. 

He felt kinda like someone important with an entourage of wolves at his heels. He wondered if any of them could see how his empty hand trembled at his side or notice his breath would quicken up only to go back to normal a second later. If they did, then they were at least nice enough to not point it out. Occasionally, Curly would give his hand a squeeze. He felt too drained to do anything other than hold Curly's hand like he would die if they separated for even a second. 

He wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with Soda snoring by his side. Should he tell Darry what happened? He'd never be able to leave the house. Curly dived into a softer rendition of Jailhouse Rock. The soft melody put a smile on his face. He'll worry about all this later. Right now, he just wanted to listen to Curly mumble the lyrics and be okay for once.


	9. C-C-Cherry Bomb

There was something so serene about a library. It was nothing but a labyrinth of shelves upon shelves of books that all have some story to tell to people. The air was perfumed with that old, paperback smell that honestly shouldn’t smell nearly as half as good as it does. Pony pushed the cart in front of him, eyeing the shelf labels as he passed. He helped out in the library during his study hall. He has nothing better to do and besides the librarians seemed to like him enough. 

The only people here (other than him and the librarians) was Two-bit and Steve’s english class who sat at the tables in the middle. They weren’t paying attention though. Just playing tabletop football while their teacher mumbled something about a research project. Their eyes would flicker over sometimes and just as quickly go away. Pony pursed his lips, turning into the fantasy section.

He got to work organizing the shelves. He was taking a book off the shelf when a pair of green eyes stared into his. The girl was pretty, like Grace Kelly. He never saw anyone with hair as red as hers before. She was clearly rich or at least rich enough to have the clothes she had on.

“What grade are you in?” she said. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Oh, I’m in ninth grade,” Pony held the book to his chest. He honestly didn’t know what to do with the thing. He should put it on the cart, but he was so nervous he couldn’t even do that.

“I’m in tenth,” she stuck her hand through the opening. “Cherry.”

“Pony,” her grip was firm and confident. Not at all like his tentative one. 

“Really?” Cherry rested her hand on the shelf. “Your name is Pony?”

“Yeah,” Pony kind of felt like she was making fun of him or something. She didn’t seem like a bad girl, but it didn’t make him feel less insecure. “Is yours actually Cherry?”

“No,” Cherry said. “It’s actually Sherri, but I like Cherry better.”

“It suits your hair,” he nodded.

“That’s actually where the nickname comes from,” she twirled a strand around her finger. “What about you? Where’d yours come from?”

“Mine doesn’t have as much meaning as yours though,” Pony said. “It’s just short for Ponyboy.”

“You have such a unique name and I get something like Sherri.”

“Hey, Sherri is a nice name,” Pony finally felt comfortable enough to put the book away. 

“Well, at least you and my parents think so,” Cherry smiled, a teasing look in her eyes. “What are you here for?” Pony made sure to smile back at her as he held up his aide identification.

“I’m an aide since I’m not busy this block.”

“Ooh,” Cherry looked impressed. “That’s a big job.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a big deal,” the two of them grinned at each other. It was so weird being able to talk to someone from another world like it was nothing. It’s not like Socs and greasers can’t be civil with each other. It’s just so rare for it to not be for the sake of a group project. It was like friendship.

“In that case, think you can help me find something?” Cherry asked.

“Sure thing!” it was really nice talking to Cherry. He didn’t have to act a certain way to make sure people liked him. With fellow greasers and middle class friends, there was a lot less pressure. You were just you and people liked that and Cherry made him feel normal. Well, as normal as you can get when a lot of people you know are big, furry beasts that shift forms seemingly whenever.

Maybe they also turn during a full moon, but it’s not by choice. That’s how it is in movies and stuff. Pony and Cherry sat in a little alcove hidden in the historical fiction section. Despite the perfectly good chairs, the two of them were sitting on the floor, staring at the books overhead.

“You wanna know something, Pony?” Cherry didn’t wait for him to respond. “You’re different from the greasers I’ve met. You don’t act nice because you have to be.”

“I could say the same about you,” Pony nudged a book back into place. 

“It’s really stupid, you know?” Cherry turned towards him, determined. “We’re all the same deep down. Us, Socs, just got dealt the better hand. Maybe, I’m just naive but I’m sick of it.”

“I think you have the right spirit,” he said. “I honestly was hoping for a split second that you were middle class since they’re a safe middle ground.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” a thoughtful look crossed over her face. “It’s not like there’s not any nice Socs, but the awful ones are so loud and present that it seems that way.”

“I’m sorry,” Cherry said apologetically like she’s part of the problem. In a way, she’s kind of is, but at the same time she’s not. “I really am naive, huh?” She leaned back. 

“Like I said, you have the right spirit,” he bumped his shoulder against hers. Soda always did that to cheer him up and it worked considering she smiled a little. “It’s just a matter of can we crush societal pressures and stop regular jumping of greasers.”

Cherry held out her hand just like how she did when she introduced herself. “Let’s be the first Greaser-Soc solidarity. We could start small and work our way into the sunlight.”

Pony shook her hand. “Deal.”

They shared a grin. “I have to go back to class” Cherry stood up and brushed her clothes off. “I’ll see you here next time right?” Pony nodded. Cherry walked away, book in hand. Cherry was a lot nicer than most Socs. It was weird, but not unpleasant. She definitely had a different perspective than his. More optimistic and less ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die’. She wanted things to be nicer and he can’t fault her for that even if she was privileged in comparison. He wondered if she was right.

Socs and Greasers can’t be that different. They gotta have something in common. Maybe, the two of them can change things. For his sake, he sure hoped so. He stood up, walking back to the cart he abandoned to talk to Cherry. It would really suck if they tried all that only to fail and end up being enemies. His mind wandered to what happened yesterday. God, his life was so weird.

His life was the weirdest of weirds. He has this werewolf Soc out for his blood even though he doesn’t do anything, but exist. He wondered if anyone found anything. He continued organizing books, you know, like how he was supposed to be doing. He’ll ask Two-bit or Steve later. Someone has to know.


	10. Angst but I made up for it with a date

Pony would see her in the halls sometimes. It’s hard to miss hair that fiery. He would see her in the halls and pretend he didn’t even know who she is and vice versa. The thing is everyone knows who she is. Socs. Middle class. Greasers. They all know the cheerleader with the brightest hair who’s been dating Bob Sheldon since practically forever. It made him sick that he had to pretend.

They’d sit in that alcove in the library during fourth block, out of sight. They’re friends in that space until she had to go back to class and he has to organize the library. Outside, they’re just strangers who don’t even know the other exists cause they can’t know about the other. He can’t even make eye contact with her. Isn’t that sad? Maybe, he’s just too hopeful. Too cheerful.

“I have to take pictures of the student body for journalism,” Cherry said, pushing around the sushi she brought for them to share. “Couples, friends, athletes, and stuff.”

“Why couples?” Pony asked.

“Dance stuff,” Cherry shrugged. “Like homecoming king and queen.” They ate in silence. “Do you like anyone, Pony?” He almost choked on the sushi at the question.

“I mean,” he swallowed forcefully. He probably matched her hair at this rate. “Yes?”

“Think I could get a picture then?”

“I don’t know,” Pony mumbled. “I doubt it.”

Cherry looked at her watch. “Oh, shoot. I have to go. Think about it, will you?”

“Sure,” he watched her go. They’re strangers again until fourth block tomorrow. He knew he had to get back to work, but he just wanted to sit here for a little longer. The books can wait.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there in that alcove. The librarians didn’t check up on him, so it probably wasn’t long. Then again, the library is a quiet place, so him sitting here isn’t changing much.

“Hey, green eyes,” Curly sat down where Cherry was moments before, knees bumping his. 

“Hey!” it was a rare sight to see Curly in school. He really only goes often enough that the feds leave him and Tim alone. Even then, he doesn’t stay the whole day since they only take attendance for homeroom. It’s why a lot of upperclassmen just leave during lunch since it won’t affect them.

“Since when do you aide for the library?”

“They asked if I wanted to help,” Pony said. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been wandering the school,” Curly stretched out his legs. “Probably shouldn’t, but hey, showed up for homeroom so it’s not like I’m absent. I’m technically ‘present’.”

“You really should go to class at some point.”

“Yeah?” Curly said, a grin on his face. “You gonna tutor me?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Ouch!” Curly put a hand on his chest. He was still smiling though. “You want food?”

“I can eat,” Pony laid his head on Curly’s shoulder. He really should get back to work. The books can’t organize themselves, but he wanted to hang out with Curly even if it’s just for a little while.

“Let’s go then.”

“What? Right now?”

“Yeah!” Curly stood up and pulled Pony with him. “Would you rather go after school?”

Pony would love to leave right now. Really, he does, but what about the gang? They’d worry if he left right now and wasn’t there when they went home. Pony chewed on his bottom lip. He’d have to tell someone that he was leaving, but he can’t just interrupt a class to do that.

“Y’know,” Curly rubbed at the back of his neck. “You don’t have to skip if that’s what you’re worried about. We can always just go after school.”

“No,” Pony hesitated. “I’d have to tell someone first. I don’t want them to freak out.”

“Who’s the closest to us?”

“Johnny, but-”

“Let’s go pay him a visit.”

“Oh my god,” Pony took Curly out of this side entrance from the library. The librarians probably wouldn’t have noticed if they left, but he wasn’t going to take the off chance that they did. Was it a good idea to skip school? No, but that doesn’t stop anyone from doing it. Was it a good idea to wave through a classroom window just to get one person’s attention? No, but that didn’t stop Pony or Curly from doing it. Luckily, no one noticed them looking like idiots in the halls, except Johnny.

Johnny gave them a thumbs up and they were gone. Running through the halls like a teacher can’t open their doors to yell at them at any second. Pony hoped Johnny remembers he’s with Curly or he’d be in a lot of trouble when he gets home. He doesn’t need that stress in his life.

The sun was bright when they burst out of the double doors. The fact that it was that easy to leave school should be alarming, but considering how bad their attendance methods is, it’s fine. This is fine. They had to jump the fence to get to the student parking lot. 

“You have a car?” Pony asked.

“Nope!” Curly held open the door for him. That was awfully nice of him. “Took it from Jay, but he doesn’t drive it anyway. Won’t even know it’s gone.” He even closed the door behind him.

The diner was a wasteland when they entered. Probably cause it was the middle of the school day, so no one should be here anyway. Pony thought it would be awkward with just the two of them in an empty diner. It wasn’t though. It was...nice. They had an entire booth to themselves and yet they still sat on one side. Any silence that passed over them wasn’t tense. It was peaceful.

During those quiet moments, Pony would take the chance to study Curly’s face. He really did look a lot like Tim (and Angela too). It was so clear that they were siblings that you’d be a fool to think otherwise. He still had that scar from when they played chicken and a couple other small ones that could only come from being a greaser. “Hey, Curly?”

“Yeah?” Pony’s seen that look before. You see it in romance movies and when Steve looked at Evie when he thought no one was watching, but this wasn’t the movies. This was real.

This was so painfully real. It was almost too real. His heart raced as he leaned in. Closer and Closer until Curly closed the gap himself.


	11. Date pt 2

Pony’s first kiss was nothing at all like he expected. Was it magical? Oh, absolutely. It was like getting pricked with pure goodness made out of electricity. Was it painful? Yes, cause neither of them tilted their head enough, so they kind of clashed teeth for a second until they both had enough common sense to angle their heads. Would he do it again? Oh, for sure. 

Curly smiles when he kisses him. Every time Pony would lean in, he could feel the corners of Curly’s lips quirk up. It was excessive, and almost selfish, to be sharing little kisses in a diner with his face on fire and Curly’s hand on his knee like that. Would it be selfish to want to stay like this?

Of course, the moment passed. Not cause they’re staring into each others’ eyes like how lead actors does in a romance movie. That’ll be too rewarding. Curly blew a straw wrapper into his face. 

“I’m sorry!” Curly wasn’t sorry at all. He was laughing so hard, his eyes were watering. “Aw, come on. I said I was sorry.” He wrapped his arms around Pony. “What if I got you a Pepsi?”

“I don’t even want one now!” Pony wasn’t actually mad or anything. Disappointed? Definitely, but not mad. He won’t let Curly know that just yet though. “You can forget it.”

Then, Curly kissed him again with that same, stupid grin that was obnoxiously charming in that way only Curly could do. “We should make this a thing.”

“What? Make out in an empty diner during school?”

“Well, if you put it like that then yeah.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Pony mumbled. They spent the rest of the school hours driving around Tulsa with the radio blaring and windows down. Tulsa was kind of nice with no one around. It was more peaceful, less demanding. A whole new place really until school lets out. Once school’s out, Tulsa just goes downhill with all the Socs that feel the need to target the less fortunate.

It was like the opposite of charity. They honestly could drive for hours and still not see everything Tulsa had to offer. Pony had half the brain to ask Curly to drive through the countryside like how his parents used to, but that was for another time. Hands interlocked, Pony trailed after Curly as he browsed whatever this local store had. It was owned by this old guy who eyed them suspiciously.

Either it was due to them being greasers or the fact they clearly weren’t in school right now. Both spelled trouble in the eyes of an elderly man who ran his own business. Curly would smile every time the man made eye contact with him. They stopped in front of a case of necklaces.

“Do you want matching necklaces?” Curly asked.

“That is the lamest thing ever,” Pony paused for a second. “Of course, I do.”

Curly winked, leading them around the store. He was stalling. No one else was in the store other than them and the owner. It would be moronic to try to shoplift with the owner watching them like a hawk. Luckily for them (not so lucky for the owner), another person came in and distracted the man. Curly grabbed two necklaces and handed them over to Pony. Boy, Pony sure hoped the owner doesn’t look over anytime soon. They slipped out the door with Curly grabbing a pack of Malboros by the door. Realistically, he shouldn’t be smoking. It’s bad for track, but in his defense he has cut down.

The DX was as empty as the other places they’ve visited. Sure, there’s a guy browsing in the corner, but that still wasn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things. Soda’s face lit up from behind the cash register. “Well, hey there, strangers! Haven’t seen you two in a while.” Hugging someone with a big register and counter in the way was awkward, but that sure didn’t stop Pony from throwing his arms around Soda’s neck. “What are you two doing out of school, anyway?”

“Oh,” Pony glanced over at Curly for a second. Curly wasn’t even paying attention, the jerk. He was eyeing some magazine with a big, fancy car on it. “I wanted to see you.”

“Aww,” Soda tilted his head. “Don’t make it a habit.”

“I’m not!”

“I’m serious, young man,” Soda wagged his finger. “Or I’ll tell Darry.”

“Can’t you just buy me a Pepsi with your discount?”

“Is that why you came to see me?” Soda asked, punching in his employee discount. That’s the good thing about having your older brother work in a place like this. You can use his discount which wasn’t a lot, but Pony will take what he can get at this point. “Just to get a Pepsi?”

“Well, yeah!” Pony said. “I don’t have money.”

“Ow!” Soda handed over the Pepsi. “You hurt my heart.”

“Love you, Soda!” 

“Hey, Shepard,” Soda called. “How’s Tim?”

“Busy,” Curly moved to stand next to Pony. “He’s tryin’ to find that guy.”

“Tell him Darry wants to talk to him, will ya?”

“Sure.”

“Oh,” Soda bent behind the counter, pulling out a ring with the shiniest gem Pony had ever seen. It had a reddish pink gem about the size of a dime. It was..gorgeous. Something a big starlet would wear as she walked the red carpet. “Steve and I found it during the search.”

“Did the guy drop it?” Pony asked.

Soda shrugged. “Beats me. It’s real pretty though.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Pony chose to ignore the fact that Curly drank about half of the Pepsi that Soda got him literally a couple minutes ago. Then again, Curly did buy them food.

“Probably just put it in a drawer somewhere,” Soda hummed, putting the ring back from wherever he got it. It was sad that such a pretty thing would be hidden away like that, but none of them would ever wear it anyway. It’ll just sit there and collect dust until it wasn’t nearly as pretty.

A shame, really. Despite the fact that Soda was very much on the clock and there was a customer in here, Pony talked about anything and everything with Soda. Curly would chime in sometimes, but most of the time he seemed content to lean on Pony. He’s lucky that Pony had enough muscle and Curly’s weight wouldn’t cause both of them to go tumbling to the tile floor.

Pony was listening to Soda go on about something a greaser (that Pony honestly didn’t know, but it’s no big deal) did yesterday when he realized something. That was a date. He went on an honest to god date with Curly Shepard. It shouldn’t be this surprising considering they made out in the Dingo and that’s not at all platonic, but oh my God. Is he just overthinking? Looking a little too deep into something that could’ve just be left alone? Probably. It wouldn’t be the first time. You have to admit that wasn’t a friendly outing though. Maybe in the beginning, but certainly not near the end. 

It was different near the end. More intimate. Man, Darry was right. He really was dumb.


	12. All good things come to an end

The bleachers dug into Pony’s thighs and put indents of grooves into his fingertips. His lower back burned as he sat hunched over, trying to be as small as possible. Steve sat next to him, tensed with narrowed eyes. Anger wafted off of his form like a heat wave. It almost reminded Pony of Dally.

Except Dally’s anger is cold and bitter. Steve’s was equally as bitter, but scorching. The kind of anger that spat out hot air and made you see nothing but red. Pony shifted uncomfortably. Blood dripped down his knee in thin trails and into his white socks that were beginning to turn pink. He had to keep shifting, so his skin wouldn’t stick to the seat. There’s nothing worse than your thighs sticking to metal from prolonged sitting. His shoes laid in the gaps of the seats.

Technically, only one needed to be off, but it’s weird to just have one shoe on. The ankle of the same leg that had blood coursing down it was hurting something bad. He couldn’t point his toes or roll it out. If he tried, pain would rush in and make him wish he hadn’t tried anything at all. The gym teacher offered up his jacket for him to lay it on, but it wouldn’t have made any difference. 

Pony told the teacher that his foot got caught on one of the wires over there. It was partly the truth, so it wasn’t like he was lying or anything. His foot did get caught on it, but it was because some Soc forced him to do so. It didn’t help that the wire practically camouflaged into the grass.

Steve had to carry him over to the bleachers where they sat waiting for the teacher to come back with a bandaid and an ice pack. The class was left to their own devices, which is a terrible idea. Steve’s leg bounced agitatedly. He hasn’t even looked at Pony since the “accident” happened.

Now that Pony thought about it, Steve had been irritable all day. The whole gang actually. Like they’re waiting for something to happen. Pony tried to rack his brain for the reason, but nothing came up. That’s the problem with being human and virtually everyone else being a supernatural being. You miss out on stuff. It’s probably something super obvious and Pony’s just not getting it.

Steve leaned back, eyes burning a hole into some sophomore who definitely felt the heat as he kept rolling his shoulders back. The longer Pony sat next to Steve, the more antsy he got. Normally if he got antsy during gym he’d go for a jog, but he was out of commission. He wanted nothing more than to have the teacher come back with the ice pack and diffuse the suffocating wrath away from here.

He was going to say something, anything really, to put both of them at ease when a figure jumped over the fence. As he sauntered closer, the leather jacket and startling white hair could belong to only one person. It was an even rarer sight to see Dally at school. Dally showed up when he wanted and it was mostly to check on Pony and Johnny than to learn anything. He doesn’t give a hoot about school and the teachers stopped threatening him into coming. A lit cigarette laid between his lips, a good mood visible on his face. Well, he was in a good mood until he got sight of Pony and Steve.

His gaze lingered on the blood on Pony’s knees. Dally and Steve shared hissed whispers laced with malice and borderline snarls. Dally sat down, forcing Pony and Steve to scoot over so they weren’t all on top of each other. Dally turned to Pony. “You alright?”

“I think I sprained it,” Pony said. “It’s not too bad. Just need some ice.”

“I’ll skin them,” Dally twisted the cigarette out on the seat. “Did the teacher say anything?”

“Not a thing,” Steve said, crossing his arms. “He thinks it’s an accident, but everyone with a brain knows damn well that the kid tripped on the wire cause of that prick over there.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Pony didn’t know who he was trying to convince cause it certainly wasn’t working. They were still just as brooding. “I’ll be okay in a week. You won’t tell Darry, will ya?”

“We have to,” Dally stretched his legs out. “We need to figure something out.”

“You guys aren’t gonna have a rumble, are you?”

“At this point,” Steve said. “We’re gonna. Especially since they keep seeking you out cause you’re an easier target than the rest of us.” Pony scrunched up his nose.

Steve wasn’t wrong about that. He is a much easier target than a werewolf, but that doesn’t mean Steve had to say it. He could’ve at least allowed some of Pony’s pride to be in tact.

“Just in time for the full moon,” Dally said. “That’ll be fun.”

“Do you guys change during full moons?”

“Mhm. It’s the only time when it’s not by choice.”

“What am I gonna do during that?” Pony never thought about what he’d do while everyone else is doing werewolf business. There’s only so much a human can do in comparison to a werewolf. He’s already not allowed to do much. Is he just going to have to stay in? He wasn’t planning on being out that late anyway, but it sucks to be inside while everyone else is doing something.

“You’re staying in,” Steve said. Of course, Pony is staying in. Why wouldn’t he be? “We’ll be around the house, so you won’t be alone.” Gee, thanks, Steve. We can always count on you.

Then again, he never saw Darry as a wolf before. Their wolf forms kinda resembled them, so Darry would probably be the size of a great dane or something. One of those big, tough dog breeds.

“How long does it take for someone to get ice?” Steve’s irritated tone brought Pony back from his thoughts. The teacher left close to twenty minutes ago. It’s kind of a big school, but they’re pretty close to where the nurse’s office is. There’s no reason for the gym teacher to take this long.

“Come on,” Dally stood up, pulling Pony with him. He leaned down, so Pony could hop onto his back. Pony nearly forgot about his shoes, but thankfully Steve grabbed them. He didn’t want to explain why he didn’t have shoes with him at all. As they made their way down the bleachers, there was this glimmer of a familiar reddish-pink that realistically shouldn’t be nearly as bright as it was. 

It glittered and gleamed on the finger of the Soc that cause him to sprain his ankle. Pony tightened his arms around Dally’s neck. The guy wasn’t even doing anything. Just laughing and having fun with his friends, but his smile...dread pooled in Pony’s stomach and lodged into his throat. He wasn’t even doing anything and yet everything about him set off warning bells and red flags. It was a familiar feeling. That dread. He felt it before when he first saw Dally as a wolf and the figure across the street. It was too much to be a coincidence. The Soc looked over at him, making eye contact. Pony could feel his eyes widen and his blood rush cold then it was gone just like that.


	13. Would you look at this? Conveniently no one's home

Pony’s cheek was flush against the cool, underside of the pillow. Reddish strands covered his vision and left a glimpse of the plain, boring wall. It wasn’t like he had much to see anyway. The lights were off so “no one gets the bright idea of coming by.” Whatever that means. It was quiet downstairs, frighteningly so. Pony couldn’t hear anything, but the fan whirring in the corner. There’s something about being seemingly alone with an injury that did nothing but jumble his nerves.

His ankle was getting better. He had been taking it easy for a while. Well, as easy as you can get when you have to go to school. Pony hoped it will just heal on its own, so Darry didn’t have to scrap some cash together for hospital bills. Like he said, his ankle was getting better. Walking doesn’t hurt as much, although he still walks funny to make sure he isn’t putting too much pressure on it.

Pony sighed, twisting onto his back. Is this going to be a normal occurrence? To be cooped up alone in his room while the rest of the gang was out doing god knows what during a full moon? What a crappy way to spend a Friday night. He doesn’t have to stay upstairs. Darry said not to leave the house, but there’s only so much you can do. He read all the books, even the ones he wasn’t supposed to. There’s nothing on TV that could occupy him until morning. So, here he was.

Staring at the ceiling like that’ll somehow make him less bored. Pony swung his legs over, walking downstairs at a pace that would put old people to shame. He picked up the phone receiver and held it for a while. He never really called anyone like this. Normally, he just talked to people in person.

Pony twirled the cord around his finger, biting his lip. They’re friends, aren’t they? It’s not that big of a deal to have a measy, little phone call. Just do it. Don’t be a big baby. He dialed Cherry’s number.  _ Riing. Riing _ . Oh god, what if this was a mistake? She never said anything about phone calls and here Pony was calling her. He should put the receiver down before-  _ Click _ !

“Hello?” even through the distorted phone, Cherry’s voice was silvery. Clear and light. He almost forgot to respond in his amazement of her picking up to begin with.

“Cherry?” Pony said. He hoped she couldn’t hear how nervous he was. “Hi, it’s Pony.”

“Hey!” there was shuffling on the other end.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No, Bob was leaving anyway,” Cherry said. Pony forgot all about Bob, honestly. Cherry didn’t talk about him nor did Pony ever asked. He sees the tall Soc around Cherry sometimes, arm around her shoulder with a permanent cocky grin on his face. Pony hated the guy. Sure, hate’s a strong word, but it was true. He always had these rings on his fingers that he took pleasure in connecting to someone’s jaw. He jumped Johnny a while back which left a bad, bitter taste in Pony’s mouth.

He never liked seeing any of the Gang in pain. They chatted about little things; school and how Pony’s ankle was doing. Normal small talk. Then, they reached the topic of rings.

“I’ve been seeing these rings around school. Have you seen them?”

“I think so?”

“Well, they’ve got this garnet gem,” Cherry explained. “They’re real pretty. Bob has one.”

“Really?” the receiver shook in his hands. Bob has one. Bob, who jumped Johnny some months ago, has one. The same one as whoever attacked him at Dairy Queen. The same one as the Soc who tripped him during gym. That ring. It’s no coincidence that they all have the same ring. Who wears the same ring, on the same finger as several other people? They must be a group or something. A _pack_. If even one of them was a werewolf - _Clang_! The sound of metal hitting metal.

“Pony? You there?” Cherry’s voice was far away. Blood rushed to Pony’s ears, breath becoming more ragged. He had no one here. He was alone and there was someone - something- outside. “Hello?” The receiver slid out of his hand. He can’t hold his own against something right now.

Especially not a werewolf. He needs something to protect himself. He needs-- a heater - sorry- a gun. Dally has a pistol. He hid it somewhere so Darry wouldn’t see it. It’s around here somewhere. Pony dug through drawers, ripping them out and dumping their contents onto the floor. Nothing. He tossed pillows and cushions off the couch and recliner. Nothing. Darry’s gonna so mad he made a mess of the living room and kitchen, but given the circumstances Pony has very little options right now.

He shoved his hand under the couch, feeling nothing but the wood panels. Don’t tell him, it’s upstairs. Dally doesn’t even go upstairs like that. Pony doesn’t have much time. He can’t run upstairs with his ankle. He needs - his fingers brushed the smooth chamber of a revolver. What a stupid place to hide it. His hand trembled as he pulled it out from under the couch.

He doesn’t know how to hold it, let alone fire a bullet. He can’t get close to the person though. They’d overpower him. There’s a reason why he always fought alongside Johnny. His heart hammered in his chest. Nails scraped against the porch, sending shivers down his spine. It’s okay. You got this. Pony stood up with uneasy legs. It’s okay. The revolver was heavy in his hand.

He loosened and tightened his grip. You got this. He couldn’t tell if fear or adrenaline was coursing through his veins. Any second, it’ll be here. He needs a steadier grip. Pony rolled his shoulders back, lifting his head up. The scrap of nails got closer and closer. It was so close that he could feel it.

The closer it got, the more Pony realized it was growling. It can’t open the door. Pony’s going to have to open it which is arguably stupid. He crept closer to the door. Just have to be quick. That shouldn’t be hard. He’s a greaser. He has to be quick. Blood pumped in his ears as his hand rested on the doorknob. If he isn’t fast enough or can’t figure out the revolver, he’s screwed.

Just do it. What are you waiting for? He opened the door and  _ BANG _ ! His leg hit the couch, ears ringing. The wolf let out this pitiful yelp. He slid to the ground. Tears welled up in his eyes. Big brown eyes appeared before him, letting out soft whines and rubbing his shaggy, black head under Pony’s chin. Next to him laid a rusty brown wolf with a long scratch on his muzzle. 

Looks like Pony wasn’t the only one in a fight. A struggle was happening in front of him. It wasn’t even by any means with the four familiar wolves versus the one that Pony managed to shoot in the side. He allowed the two near him to lead him upstairs. He stared up at the ceiling of the bedroom he shares with Soda. The wolves curled up around, protective and warm. His hand tightened around nothing. When did the revolver leave his hand? “Johnny? Two-bit? Am I gonna be okay?”


	14. Chapter 14

Pony stuck a cigarette between his lips, digging through the cabinets for where they left the first-aid kit. Darry would tear him a new one for even thinking of smoking indoors. It’s not lit anyway. It was just kinda in his mouth for the sake of being there. Probably an old habit he hadn’t kicked yet.

The first-aid kit is always stocked or at least not empty. It’s a real lifesaver if you’re trying to not drown in hospital bills and know some first-aid. Pony was lousy at first-aid. Sure, he could handle most minor injuries, but they always made him feel kind of nasty. Especially for what he was about to do. The day following a full moon was...subdued and almost lonesome.

The gang had this drowsy,drained look to them. A real sad sight. He pulled the kit out and set it onto the counter. Most of the gang honestly didn’t need anything from it except ,well, some bandaids. No, the kit was mostly for Steve and Dally who always comes out of rumbles with some sort of bizarre injury. This time required stitches and unfortunately Pony knew how to sew.

He’s gonna have to take the needle from Ma’s old sewing kit. She loved that thing until well, you know. He almost felt bad for having to use it to sew up his werewolf buddies, but they don’t have any other needles. “Darry?” he stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Where’s Ma’s sewing kit?”

For a second, sadness furrowed Darry’s brows, but it was quickly gone. “On her vanity.”

It was this unspoken rule that Ma and Pop don’t pop up in conversation. They don’t even touch their room or stuff unless they really had to. If they just went in there all willy-nilly, it would ruin the image they left. Ma’s sewing kit was actually just this old cookie tin she recycled. It was stuffed full with treads and pin cushions and some loose needles that pricked his finger way too many times.

He quickly grabbed a needle and some black thread. “Steve?”

Steve stood, taking swigs of beer like he needed it to live. Kind of like how Two-bit drank if you wanted to be honest. Unlike Two-bit though, Steve hated beer. Said it tasted like dishwater, but he was drinking some right now just so he wouldn’t feel Pony do a crappy job of stitching him up. It was either that or Soda sewed the wound up and Soda can’t sew for the life of him.

Pony disinfected the needle and the wound. Steve was the tiniest bit luckier than Dally, who had his wound on his side. On the other hand, Steve now will have stitches above his brow. In the grand scheme of things, it would make more sense to care for Dally first, but they’re both equally as bad and no one died yet so. Somehow threading the needle was the easiest part of this ordeal.

Stitching up a person was real awful. How do doctors even do stuff like this? It’s gross. “Hey, Steve?” Steve grunted. Probably cause there’s a needle in his face. “Can I tell ya something?”

“Wish you wouldn’t.”

“Shut up,” Pony said. “You know that ring you and Soda found?”

“Sure.”

“Well,” Pony stared at his stitch work. It actually wasn’t too shabby. “A friend of mine said a bunch of Socs had that same ring. The guy that tripped me also had one.” 

“Hm.”

“You think they’re a pack or something?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Steve said, wincing a little. “I mean who just wears the same, stupid ring as a bunch of other losers? One of them is probably that wolf from last night.”

“How many werewolves are there?”

“Way too many.”

* * *

English was, without a doubt, one of his favorite school subjects. It was a lot kinder to Pony than the other classes; easier, more enjoyable. He gets to read books and analyze them to see how they tick and why they were so captivating to his imagination. It was like having a whole new world at your fingertips. It’s probably why he aided for the library to begin with, other than something to do.

It was virtually impossible to ruin English class. Somehow, Mr. Syme managed to do that anyway. It wasn’t something inherently bad. Just some stupid partner work, but when you’re one of the few greasers in a class filled with multiple grade levels? It’s pretty lousy.

His partner was Randy Adderson, a friend of Bob’s. Randy was Bob’s partner in crime since those two are almost always around each other. If you saw Bob, Randy would be close by and vice versa. It’s nice if you were trying to avoid one of them. Randy had that same ring Pony’s seen so many times before. He wondered if they were all pals or just a group of jerks with a similar goal.

“You like it?” Randy asked when he noticed Pony was staring at it.

“Uh, yeah!” Pony mumbled, stomach twisting into knots. “It’s nice.” It was a nice ring. Real pretty too if Pony pointedly ignored some stuff. A lot of stuff. Puts a bad taste in Pony’s mouth just like how Bob’s whole existence does. How lovely that his English partner owns one.

“Thanks,” Randy smiled in a way that Pony couldn’t even tell if it was friendly or not. It wasn’t like Cherry’s smile or Soda’s smile which was warm and inviting. It had all the makings to be friendly, but it missed the mark. It could just be Pony’s unease from the ring seeping through, but man did he want this block to be over. Randy didn’t seem like a bad guy per say, but that ring…

“I’ve seen a couple of guys wearing it,” Pony said slowly. “Is there a reason?”

“Ah,” Randy mumbled. “A group of us bought it as a joke, but we ended up liking it.” Both of them know very well that Randy was fibbing. It wasn’t even a good lie. A group of rich, teenage boys all have the same ring just because? Sure. Pony doesn’t have any proof that any of them were the ones behind the attacks. Just a strong theory, but even then that isn’t much. 

The ring Steve and Soda found could’ve just been accidentally dropped. Considering how the universe liked to work, Pony really doubted that. There’s also the issue of any of those guys being werewolves. Steve said a lot of packs roam Tulsa which unfortunately means that some Socs are werewolves. God, everything was so much easier when he didn’t know stuff about werewolves.

“So,” Randy’s voice pulled Pony out of his spiraling thoughts. “We’re gonna have to work on this out of class.”

“Ok,” Pony said, gathering his things for his next class. “I’ll, uh, call you?”

“Sure!” Randy scribbled down his number on a scrap of paper and handed it to Pony. If Pony didn’t want to get a good grade, he would literally never call him. Ever.


	15. Oh Boy

Sometimes, through the bustle of class changes, Randy’s eyes would meet his. They almost always lit up. Not in joy but a gentle amber that if Pony didn’t know better, he’d think was the lights. It’s never for long. Pony wouldn’t be able to stand it if it was. Randy would give him a small smile, pitying and tolerant. It almost made him sick with discomfort. Out of politeness, he turned the corners of his lips up for a second before he disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

The wind nipped at his face, flushing his ears and cheeks pink. It was stupid to be out here on the creaky porch swing with nothing but a thin jacket. A cigarette laid between his fingers, unlit. He doesn’t know why he keeps taking one out of the pack. His nerves been real bad lately, but he wasn’t going to resort back to smoking. He’s quitting. Aw, who is he kidding?

The screen door squeaked open and Johnny stepped out. He sat down next to Pony, not saying anything. Most people think it’s weird that the two of them can just sit quietly for a while and not say a word. That’s what Pony liked about Johnny. He didn’t need to say anything. He was there.

The two of them ended up sharing the cigarette Pony had. Johnny’s the only person Pony knows, other than Dally, that always had a lighter on him. Most of the Gang doesn’t smoke like that.

“Hey, Johnny?” Pony mumbled, looking at Johnny from the corner of his eye. “I have this English project and my partner is a Soc. We don’t have time in class to work on it.” Johnny was silent, but Pony wasn’t really expecting an answer just yet. “I’m probably gonna end up at his house.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Johnny asked. That’s another thing Pony liked about Johnny.

“Will you?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said. “Besides, I don’t think Darry would’ve let ya go by yourself anyway.” Johnny had a point. Darry would never-- Pony forgot to tell Darry about it. He forgot to tell the one person that actually needed to know about the whole ordeal. It’s not like Darry can cancel the project or something (Boy, Pony sure wish he could do that though). There’s only so many places where you can work on a group project. There’s Pony’s house, but let’s face it; that’ll never happen.

There’s the library, but they’d have to work in a corner, out of sight. And then there’s Randy’s house. Pony had a couple phone calls with Randy. He, rather unfortunately, had to be the one to initiate them. Randy doesn’t have his number and Randy quite frankly never will. It was heavily implied that they’d be working on it at Randy’s house. Libraries are “too stuffy” and “boring”.

It’s a group project. How fun can it be? Still, Pony wished Randy was more open to the idea of working at the library. Maybe Pony’s just used to the atmosphere, but they would have most of the stuff they’d need right there. If Randy doesn’t want to, then Pony respects that. He just hopes he’s brave enough to set foot into that house and can make it out alive.

* * *

If there’s one thing for sure, Randy’s house was lavish. You could fit Pony’s entire house in it. It shouldn’t have been such a surprise, but it’s not like Pony frequents the rich side of Tulsa. Not if he wants to get jumped by guys like Bob. Johnny whistled lowly.

Man is he glad Johnny was here with him. Pony hadn’t let go of Johnny’s hand the whole way over here. The driveway was empty except for a familiar blue Mustang. He tried to ignore the growing lump in his throat. Two greasers in the heart of “Soc territory.” Sheeps amongst lions.

Johnny gave Pony’s hand a squeeze when Randy finally opened the door. A grin on his face, but you could tell it was only meant for pleasantries than anything else.

“Hey!” Randy beckoned them closer. “You came!”

“Yep,” Pony said. If he was squeezing Johnny’s hand too tightly then Johnny didn’t give an indication. “I, uh, brought Johnny with me if that’s alright?”

Randy gave Johnny a once-over. “You’re in my math class,” he said slowly.

“Yeah,” Johnny nodded, looking a little tense. Pony didn’t blame him.

“Come on in.” The inside of Randy’s house was just as lavish, if a little excessive. Despite Randy’s easy-going attitude, Pony haven’t felt comfortable the moment he stepped onto the property. It certainly didn’t happen that Johnny was the same. If he was in his wolf form, Pony was sure his hackles would’ve been raised. He wants nothing more than to get this project done and over with.

“Randy?” Pony piped up while they were working. Books were scattered around them; some open, some not. They had been working for some time now. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hall and to the left,” Randy said. Pony felt bad for having to leave Johnny for a couple minutes, but if he didn’t get away for at least a second, he’d burst.

“Thanks,” Pony mumbled, leaving the room. His chest was tight and his ears rang. It was off-putting that virtually no one was here. Just Randy in this big, flashy house.  
Pony slipped into the bathroom, splashing cold water onto his face. When he left the bathroom, his hair was standing on end. He almost wanted to make a run for it.

“Well,” a voice slurred. “What do we have here? A greaser?” Bob Sheldon reeked of alcohol. He was probably knocked out upstairs when Pony and Johnny arrived. Why didn’t Randy mention him? Bob sauntered closer like a predator about to pounce. “You know what a greaser is? Huh?” Beer sloshed around in his hand. “White trash with long, greasy locks.” He chuckled a little like he was a comedian.

Pony squared his shoulders back. He didn’t feel brave, but he can sure fake it. “Funny. You know what a Soc is?” Pony didn’t wait for a response. “White trash with gaudy Mustangs.” And just cause Pony got this weird rush of bravery, he spat right in Bob’s face. Bob wiped his eyes, visibly shocked. His eyes flashing dangerously as he brushed his hand against his khaki pants.

Was it stupid of him to do something like that? Oh, absolutely. His legs felt as if they were gonna give out. He was starting to breathe so raggedly that even he could hear it, but he still stood there with his shoulders back. Chin tilted the slightest bit up. Now’s a really good time to put his track skills to good use and book it. There’s an opening right there. Just go for it.

His sneakers squeaked as he tried to get away. Here’s the problem with werewolves, they’re almost always faster than you. Bob’s hand latched onto Pony’s wrist, nearly causing Pony to lose his balance. No matter what he did, Bob wouldn’t let go. Panic crept up Pony’s throat. “Johnny!”


	16. Look at me loosely referencing canon events wow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm changing my update schedule a little bit. It'll still be on Thursdays, but it'll be every/every other Thursday. I'm not having a problem with the schedule. I can easily get at least 1000 words by then, but sometimes I feel like it's subpar and that I'm only writing to make sure I update on time. I wanna make quality content even though this fanfic is purely for fun

He can’t breathe. Each breath he took was painful as it clawed at his throat. He never felt smaller than the moment Bob Sheldon loomed over him. It was almost claustrophobic despite the large space around them in the empty hall. “Let go!” his pleads fell on deaf ears.

Bob’s nails dug into his wrist like pins. He tugged and tugged and tugged, but Bob didn’t let go or loosen his grip. Pony just wanted him to let go. Desperation soon mixed with his panic and Pony did what his brain was screaming at him to do. He bit down at the offending hand. Hard.

“Fuck!” Bob yanked his hand away, cursing up a storm. “You little shit!”

A hand brushed against his and he flinched so violently that it was like his brain got rattled. Johnny held a hand up, body calm and collected while his dark eyes revealed concern. Hesitantly, Pony held out his hand for Johnny to grab. Johnny’s eyes flickered to something behind Pony’s head before he gently tugged Pony away from the onslaught of swears and curses aimed at their backs.

Bob didn’t follow them. When Pony looked back, Randy was there, talking in a low voice, looking almost uninterested. Like what happened wasn’t surprising to have in the comfort of your home. No matter how far away they got, Pony could still feel the hand on his wrist.

It lingered there like a ghost. Crushing yet purely imaginative. Johnny led them away from the main street, passing by middle class houses and a few trees. When they finally stopped Johnny turned towards Pony, eyes apologetic and his shoulders hunched up. “I’m sorry,” Johnny mumbled. Pony shook his head. Johnny continued on like Pony didn’t even react at all. “We’re lousy at protecting you, huh?”

“You guys are doing great,” Pony hated how his voice trembled before it eventually cracked.

“I would’ve came earlier, but I had to be careful,” Johnny shoved his hands into his jacket. Pony doesn’t think Johnny is ever seen without it, really. “If Randy got involved, it would’ve been..bad.”

Randy would’ve sided with Bob without hesitation. It’s amiable until you remember what Bob did to people. To greasers. That sort of loyalty leads to disasters. Besides, it’s not like Johnny (or Pony for that matter) would’ve fared well against two possible werewolf Socs. Bob’s definitely one with how his eyes kept flashing and it’ll be safe to assume Randy is one too. There’d be no way he wasn’t.

“You okay though?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah, a little shaken,” Pony said. Johnny nodded. They were silent for a moment.

“We gotta go to Dally.” Johnny tilted his head towards a nearby path. “He’ll know what to do.”

* * *

Pony always hated Buck’s. It was loud and crowded and dirty. Darry didn’t like him being around the place, not like Pony wanted to be anywhere near it. It’s more of Dally’s scene anyway. If he wasn’t crashing on the Curtis couch, Dally was more than likely here...somewhere.

People were spilling out of the creaky, screen door, reeking of booze and cigarette smoke. Hank Williams was blaring so loud that his brain practically rattled against his skull. Pony didn’t know how they were even going to find Dally in this mess, but Johnny seemed sure of it.

Johnny weaved them through the crowds, occasionally squeezing Pony’s hand a bit tighter when they went pass certain people. Pony got a glimpse of Buck before they disappeared up the stairs. Not like it was a hard feat even with how crammed this tiny shack is. Buck was tall and lanky with a cowboy hat. Not hard to find even when he’s tucked behind the bar, serving his guests. Unsurprisingly, the upper level of Buck’s was just as bad as downstairs. Sure, most of the people were downstairs, but it was still dirty with its random junk on the floor and peeling walls.

“How do you know where to go anyways, Johnnycake?” Pony asked.

“Came here yesterday,” Johnny knocked on one of the few doors before pushing it open. Dally’s room was, without a doubt, cleaner than the rest of the place. It didn’t have much in it; just a bed, a dresser, and two night stands. Dally didn’t look up when they came in.

“Buck, I told ya to leave me alone,” Dally grumbled.

“We need your help, Dal,” Johnny said, closing the door behind them.

Dally glanced over. “You alright, kid?”

It took Pony a second to realize that it was directed at him. “Yes?” Of course, Pony just had to phrase it like a question. “Yeah, I’m fine.” he tried again. It was kinda convincing. Dally raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t say anything. Pony sat next to Dally as Johnny went ahead to tell Dally what happened at Randy’s. Dally’s face darkened before it smoothed into cool indifference.

“Gonna have to teach ya how to fight, huh?” Dally slapped Pony’s back. Dally leaned over and took the revolver Pony used out of the night stand. “You’re actually a pretty good shot.”

“Thanks?” Pony mumbled, a little confused. Dally handed it to him. Thankfully, he angled it so it didn’t point at anyone. “I don’t think I can carry this around though, Dal.”

“We’ll get you a switchblade then,” Dally said. “You’ll be a real hood.” Pony snorted. “I’m gonna have to go talk to Shepard and get a plan going. Those fuckers can’t keep doing that to ya.”

“Where is Tim anyhow?” Johnny piped up. “Some of his boys are downstairs, but I haven’t seen him around in a while.” Dally shrugged, stretching his legs out.

“Him and Curly went on some trip or something. Didn’t tell no one.”

“When will they be back?” Pony asked.

“Who knows,” Dally said, thankfully taking the revolver back and putting it in the drawer. “Hopefully soon. We’re gonna need him and his boys to help out. Maybe even the Brumly Boys.”

Pony scrunched up his nose. The Brumly Boys were an interesting bunch. Nice guys. Real loyal, but also kinda dumb. They’re definitely more street smart than book smart. Pony is always friendly with them, but he’d never consider them friends. Clearly, Dally is planning a rumble. Why else would three gangs come together like that? Certainly not to play cards or something. Pony didn’t consider himself a pacifist, but he didn’t like rumbles much. He didn’t think the Socs would be down for coming to an agreement. It’s always punches being thrown and sometimes switchblades being flicked out. Subconsciously, Pony wrapped his own hand around Bob’s once was. He won’t be able to help out with the rumble. There’s just no way. God, everything sucks.


	17. Curly's back

“Darry?” Pony paused in the doorway. His eldest brother sat at the kitchen table, barely illuminated with the phone receiver tucked under his chin. Darry looked stressed; way older than twenty. Pony may not get along with Darry as well as he does with Soda, but he’d be a liar if the sight didn’t make a pang of empathy course through him. Darry didn’t look up even when Pony came closer.

“Now what are you doing up at this hour, kid brother?” Darry mumbled.

“Can’t sleep,” Pony sat down across from him, tugging his sleeves over his hands.

“Nightmare?” Darry rubbed at his eyes before putting the receiver back.

“Um,” Pony hesitated. “No. Just thinking too much is all.”

“Think it’s about time for you to head back to Earth,” Darry leaned over and rapped his knuckles gently against Pony’s forehead. “You got school tomorrow.”

“And what about you, huh?” Pony said. “You should be heading to bed too.”

“I can handle myself,” Darry said. Silence fell over them. Not one of those comfortable silence. It was one of those uncomfortable ones where both parties have something they want to say, but neither of them say anything and hope the other person starts talking soon.

“Darry?” Pony decided to pipe up if only for his sake. “You think we’re gonna have a rumble?”

“Most likely,” Darry leaned back in his chair. “Tim’s already talking to the Brumly Boys.” Pony put his head down.

“It’s gonna be real bad, huh?”

“Mhm,” Darry ruffled Pony’s hair. “I ain’t kidding, Pony. Go to bed.”

“You better not stay up too late,” Pony wagged his finger like how his Ma used to do every time one of them did something bad. Darry smiled and Pony couldn’t help but smile back. Darry should smile more; he looks a lot younger. He stood up, standing in the doorway like he did moments before. “Night.”

* * *

Pony trailed after Dally’s slouched form, picking up books off the shelves and flipping through them. None of them really caught his eye; not that he’d buy them even if they did. It’s not like he has money. He put the book he had in his hands back and turned to where Johnny stood with his nose buried into the first page of some paperback. “Whatcha got there, Johnny? Is it good?” Johnny held up the book. _Gone with the Wind_ it read.

“Seems real good.” Johnny said, putting the book back. “Might come back and get it for us. You’d like it.” Johnny was always thoughtful about others. It’s real nice of him, but Pony wished he’d care about himself sometimes.

“Hey,” Dally called from somewhere in the small store. “Come ‘ere.” When they got there, Dally tugged Pony closer to look at the switchblades. The blades were shiny and the handles nice and smooth. Pony never had one of his own since he was always “too young” for it. Even Johnny had one and Johnny was only two years older than Pony was.

Johnny picked up one with a green handle. “What about this one?” Johnny asked, holding it next to Pony’s eye. Dally cocked his head and looked between the blade and Pony. After a couple seconds, he held out his hand for Johnny to put it into. Effortlessly, the blond put the blade in his pockets and stood up like he didn’t just shoplift.

A Dallas Winston specialty. It wasn’t until they were a solid two blocks away that Dally handed him his new switchblade. The blade was a nice weight in his hands; not too heavy or too light. He really hopes he’d never have to use it, but boy it sure seems likely. Pony flicked the blade out and then back in and then out again. He couldn’t do all those fancy tricks that Two-bit could do with his prized, black-handled one. He could see why ol’ Two-bit liked just flicking it open whenever he got bored.

If having a switchblade was all about opening- “Jesus, kid!” Dally grabbed the switchblade out of Pony’s hands. “You tryin’ to cut ya fingers off? The cut was small, similar to a paper cut if anything. Pony honestly wouldn’t have noticed if Dally didn’t say anything. Dally seemed irritated (which isn’t something new), but it wasn’t directed at him. At least, Pony didn’t think it was directed at him. Pony sucked on the wound. Not the most sanitary, but all it needs is a bandaid and it’ll be fine.

“It ain’t even that bad,” Pony mumbled, showing the blond what the cut looked like. “I didn’t know about it until you told me.” Dally didn’t look impressed, but he didn’t say anymore; just tossing his hands up and grumbling about how Pony’s gonna be the death of him or something.

Johnny patted Pony’s shoulder. Pony grinned, wrapping his arms around Johnny’s neck, pulling the sixteen-year-old down to his level. “Alright, Alright,” Dally said, something close to a grin on his face. Well, as close to one as you can get when you’re as tuff as Dallas Winston. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Pony ducked his head, trying to look as small as possible as he rummaged through his locker. It isn’t hard considering he’s already so small. Soda likes to joke that he’s a dwarf and that’s why he isn’t growing taller like how most guys do, but Pony doesn’t mind it much. It just makes him feel better if no one paid any mind to him while he wasn’t paying attention.

He was pulling his textbook out, when a hand gently closed it. Randy Anderson smiled, half looming over Pony and half just resting on the lockers. Pony hadn’t interacted with the soc since he went over to his house. “Hey, listen,” Randy started. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

Pony frowned, holding his textbook closer to his chest. Randy may be apologizing, but he didn’t even look sorry. He looked like he was just saying it cause he had to. “You ain’t.”

“Huh?” Randy said, surprised.

Pony straightened up. “You’re not sorry. You knew he was there,” Pony tossed a hand up. ”A-and you weren't even surprised that it happened.”

“I’m trying to do the right thing here,” Randy hissed. He was starting to tower over Pony like how Bob did and Pony felt his heart leap into his throat. Pony’s hand slowly trailed to where his new switchblade sat heavily in his back pocket. He didn’t want to use it.

“Hey!” a voice yelled. Pony barely had time to react before Curly stormed up and shoved Randy against the lockers, flicking out his switchblade. “Lay a hand on him and I’ll skin ya!”

“Curly?” Pony grabbed Curly’s sleeve, tugging on it as he watched a staff member gets closer and closer. “Curly? We really gotta go.”

“Shit!” Curly put his switchblade away. He laced his fingers with Pony’s before taking off down the hall, weaving through people even with the distant yells by staff to stop.


	18. The Shepards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure why I added more profanity in this chapter than any other, but it's fine

Their fit hit the tiles; the sound drowned out by the chattering of other students. They were far from Pony’s locker and Randy, but they didn’t stop. Curly ducked his head under a side staircase and motioned Pony closer. It was dusty like no one took the time to clean it once in a while.

Pony sighed, wrapping his arms around Curly’s neck. “Missed you.”

Curly patted Pony’s back and grinned. “I missed me too.” He said it all smug like, proud and clearly pleased with himself. Pony shoved him into a film of dust. “Hey!”

“What are you doing here?”

“I do show up to school,” Curly shrugged, finally putting away that switchblade of his. “I just don’t show up that often.” Then, Curly frowned, ruffling his hair a little. “Who’s that douche?”

“Randy Anderson,” Pony crossed his arms. “My English project partner.” And before he could stop himself, Pony told Curly all about what happened at the soc’s house. Curly’s eyes narrowed more and more the longer Pony went on.

“What a dick!” Curly said when Pony finished. “I mean-” Curly ran a hand angrily through his hair, tugging at it in a way that should definitely hurt. He blew out hot air and lowered his hand. “I gotta tell Tim.”

“Tim? What’ll he do?”

“Somethin’!” Curly tossed his arms up. “All we’re doin’ is pussy-footing around like these-these fuckers ain’t intentionally going after ya!” It was sweet how much Curly cared even if he showed it how Dally often did; loud and aggressively. Pony tilted his head, frowning a little.

“We’ll do something eventually,” Pony paused for a second. “Now quit your huffing and kiss me.” The corners of Curly’s mouth quirked up at that. Curly leaned in and Pony could feel his heart flutter the closer he got and then- Curly ducked his head away. “Curly!”

Curly had the nerve to laugh then with his head tossed back. The sound was clear and sounding almost like the bark of a dog as it rang out in the space around them. Even as annoyed as Pony was, he couldn’t help but smile too. Curly just had that effect on people. Obnoxious, but lovable too. Pony rolled his eyes and pushed Curly out from under the stairs. They had to get to class. Well, Pony had to get to class. Curly’s probably gonna mess around until school lets out. Curly still had a big, goofy grin on his face. “Get goin’, you big dope,” Pony said, bumping Curly’s shoulder with his.

He barely went three steps when Curly grabbed onto his wrist. “Hang out with me and the folks, will ya?” Curly asked all casual like Pony wasn’t panicking on the inside. He never hung out with Tim or Angela or even been near the Shepard’s house. His parents didn’t want him going that far and Darry sure wasn’t gonna let him go. Sure, he’s been around Tim, but it’s real brief and they don’t say much except for greetings. It’s gonna be so awkward.

“Sure!”

“Really?” Curly was just as surprised as Pony was.

“Yeah,” Pony said slowly, sticking to his guns. He dug this hole and he will lie in it. Curly looked so pleased that he said yes though and gave Pony a wink before sauntering off down the hall like an alley cat.

* * *

Pony shoved open the heavy double doors, squinting when the sunlight hit his eyes. Eventually, he saw Two-bit joking around with some of the Brumly Boys and Johnny sitting on the hood of Two-bit’s pick-up trunk, talking to someone Pony couldn’t see. Pony slowed slightly at the sight of Tim Shepard. Tim never comes here unless it’s the alley by the track, but even then the gang leader was a rare sight. Tim’s the kind of guy to send someone else to the alley than go himself.

One thing’s for sure though, their mama has some strong genes. The Shepards all got dark, sunken eyes the color of icy sapphire and untamed, inky curls. It’s even more apparent when they’re all in one spot. You can easily tell they’re related unlike Pony’s own family. Darry takes after Mr. Curtis with a strong jaw and dark brown hair. Soda’s more of Mrs. Curtis with the blond hair and kind appearance. Pony ended up resembling their grandma, got her hair color and hint of green in the eyes and everything. It must be nice for everyone to just look at you and know you’re related.

“Lil’ Curtis,” Tim greeted when Pony came over. “Heard what happened. You okay?”

“Oh,” Pony said, surprised. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Tim nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Curls said you’re ridin’ with us.”

Pony made eye contact with Johnny who nodded. “Mhm.”

“You’ll have to sit in the back,” Tim cocks his head towards a dark blue chevy a few spaces back. It was real nice too. Tuff. Pony didn’t know how Tim even got his hands on it, but he didn’t care.

“That’s okay,” Pony said. It was nice talking to Tim despite the fact he felt awkward the whole time. It was easy enough and not nearly as stressful as Pony initially thought. No, it was still stressful. Pony kind of felt as if he was dying little by little of nerves and a dash of embarrassment. That’s the thing about talking to hoods, real hoods. They make you all squirmy cause you gotta say the right thing or they wouldn’t hesitate to gut you like a fish. Not that Tim would do that, but he could.

The sharp sound of clicks on the pavement steadily came closer and boy was it an angry sound. Each click was sharp enough to prick you with. Tim snorted and slouched a bit lower. His casual indifference slipped into dangerous annoyance. Angela stormed past, huffing and puffing. She didn’t even glance at Tim. Tim followed after her, slinking like a wolf about to pounce. Pony gave Johnny a nervous smile before he jogged after the hood.

“Angie!” Tim called when she waltzed past his car. “Get in the car!”

“Drop dead, Tim!” she hissed, flipping him off for good measure. The way Tim’s face darkened sent shivers down Pony’s spine. “I ain’t gettin’ in your car so you can forget it!” Fortunately for Pony, Curly finally decided to show up. It’s a little too late though. His siblings were butting heads in a way that never happened with Pony and Darry. Sure, the two didn’t get along that well, but they never conflicted that bad.

“Where’s Angie goin’?” Curly asked, confused.

“Get in the car, Curly,” Tim sounded exhausted, irritation bleeding completely into his tone. Curly rolled his eyes and opened the door so Pony could slip in first. Man, Pony should’ve said no.


	19. The Shepards part 2

Tim ‘sly as an alley cat’ Shepard was a speed demon. It wasn’t like Pony wasn’t used to that sort of thing. Steve, Dally, and Two-bit go over the speed limit all the time to varying degrees. Hell, even Soda went over if you got him going, but boy did Tim speed. It was surprising no cop pulled them over for it considering Tim definitely ran that red light a while back. The car ride wasn’t so bad. Curly kept it interesting enough with jokes and mindless conversation and occasional dirty words that’ll make any nun blush up to her ears.

Pony didn’t even need to look in the rear view mirror to see how his own burned. He pointedly chose to ignore Curly grinning at him.

“Hey, Tim,” Curly leaned forward. “Ain’t that Angie?” Sure enough, Angela was walking down the sidewalk. She had the air of a lawyer to her, sharp and pointed down to the way her heels clipped the concrete. She didn’t seem nearly as mad as she was before, but she didn’t look happy either. She had that same look of annoyance that Pony saw moments earlier on Tim’s scarred face. Glory, they looked so similar. It’s kind of scary.

Tim slowed down, cruising alongside his kid sister and rolling down the window. “Get in.”

“I thought I told ya I ain’t getting in,” she sneered.

“And I thought I told ya to get your behind in this car,” Tim pushed open the passenger door. Angela glared at him for a second before getting in the car. She made sure to slam it behind her. Tim looked like he wanted to chew her out for it, but instead he stared straight ahead. Just when Pony thought that this whole thing wasn’t a mistake, a wrench was tossed right into the mix again. Curly whistled lowly and turned towards Pony with raised eyebrows. Pony shrugged cause honestly what else was he supposed to?

He makes it a habit to stay out of other people’s business, especially family business. Angela fussed with her hair. There was black stuff smudged under her eyes. Mascara probably. Pony hated when girls cried; makes him want to start crying too. Pony pulled out some napkins he took from the lunchroom. They were clean if only a little crumpled. He held it out to Angela with shaky hands. “Here.” She looked at him funny for a second. Slowly, she took the napkin from him. Pony smiled and the corners of her mouth quirked up.

“Thanks.” she wiped at her face, wetting the napkin with her tongue to get the residue off. They drove in relative silence that luckily wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Hey,” Curly piped up. “What’s that?” He pointed at a hole at the bottom of a fence blocking off a section of woods. It was too big to have come from some kid to have done himself. The dirt around it was real messy too like it was scratched up with claws instead of hands. Tim parked the car.

“That’s River King territory,” Tim’s eyes narrowed. “Ain’t no way they did that to their own turf.” Tim exited the Chevy with a slam. Curly cocked his eyebrows at Pony before following after his brother. Well now, Pony has to get out too. You gotta be out of your mind to think he was just gonna sit there in Tim’s Chevy all alone. Pony heard Angela snort and Pony sent her an apologetic look that she waved away.

Tim sat crouched in front of the hole, eyeing it like it’ll reveal the secrets to the universe. Up close, Pony could see all the scratches lacing the dirt. He glanced up at the woods in front of him. He doesn’t normally hear much about the River Kings (or the Tiber Street Tigers for that matter). They tend to just stick to themselves and not help out unless it’s something real big. You could tell if someone’s a River King if you look at their knuckles. All River Kings had a crown right smack in the middle of their middle fingers. Pony couldn’t imagine getting a tattoo just to say you’re a part of some gang. It seemed kind of lousy to do that when you might leave. Some guys never leave. Guys like Tim and Dally. They’ll be hoods until they die even if they did get out, but not Curly. Never Curly. Curly may be idolizing Tim like how Pony often does with Soda, but he ain’t gonna follow him to the grave. He’s gonna be with Pony in the countryside with a stupid white picket fence and a couple of dogs and the gang and Tim can come on over whenever they want. It’ll be nice and peaceful and everything Pony ever wanted.

* * *

Tim held open the hole, letting Pony and his kid siblings pass before him. Pony’s eyes flickered over the trees towering overhead. He didn’t even know the River Kings claimed this place. It was spacious and the trees blocked the beams of the sun. Tim pointed a long finger at Pony. “Stay close,” Tim said.

The Shepards changed before his eyes. It wasn’t the first time Pony saw a werewolf transformation, but that didn’t stop his grimace from the popping of bones. They blended in well with the shadows. Pony had to strain his eyes to make sure he saw them. He could see the differences among them (barely), but even then he didn’t know who was who. One of them trotted up to him, pushing against his hand with a cold, wet nose.

Well, that’s clearly Curly. Tim and Angela didn’t seem like the affectionate types. Pony buried his hand into Curly’s pelt. Literally buried. His whole hand was surrounded by fur and he still was able to keep going. It was weird to be following three wolves into a forest. All of whom are large enough to crush Pony if they really wanted to. He didn’t know what they were looking for. He tightened his grip slightly in Curly’s fur.

It was really quiet here. No rustling, no chirping of birds, nothing. It was just them. If he was at home, Pony wouldn’t have cared that much, but here? In a forest claimed by a gang? Terrifying. The wolves sniffed carefully at the ground. Pony felt kind of useless as he walked beside Curly. Sure, he still had the switchblade Dally got him, but he can’t see or smell as well as they can.

His leg hit a solid body. Tim- at least Pony thinks it’s him- hovered over something. Tim turned his scarred muzzle towards Pony, tail moving back and forth slowly. It took Pony a second to realize Tim wanted him to look at whatever he found. He slipped his hand out of Curly’s fur and crouched down. He held the object up to his eyes.

A locket. Something a socy girl would adorn her neck with. This is River King territory though. What would a locket be doing here? Greasers and Socs avoid each other if they could and bother each other if they couldn’t. He opened the locket, ignoring the puffs of breaths on his ears. Inside was a picture of a girl and what Pony thinks is her boyfriend. Her hair was a reddish color, redder than Pony’s.

Pony knew only one girl with this sorta hair color. Cherry. He squinted at the guy next to her. It looked like Bob with his blond hair and crap ton of rings. It has to be Cherry’s. There’s no way that it isn’t, but what is it doing here? Pony stood up, slipping the locket into his pocket. Tim’s nose hit the back of his knees and nudged him to move in the direction they came from. He’s gonna have to give this back to her. He’s also gonna have to ask how it got there to begin with, but Pony’s lousy at that sort of thing. Being confrontational is more Dally or Steve than him or even Johnny. He’ll figure it out.


	20. Zoinks Scoob

Pony brushed his thumb over the smooth surface of the locket. He’s just been carrying it around all day since he hasn't seen Cherry even once. He saw Marcia a couple of times, but it’s not like Pony knows her. Really know her. The only connection they have is Cherry and Pony doubts Cherry will introduce them. He crawled into the alcove and rested his forehead on his knees.

He didn’t know what to do. Cherry wasn’t the type to ditch school. She prides herself on showing up everyday, always working hard. She was like Darry in that aspect; working until they can’t anymore. He fidgeted with the locket some more. Sighing, he stood, brushing his jeans off.

He nearly ran into one of the librarians when he left the shelves. “Oh, can you deliver this for me, dear?” she said in that croaky voice of hers. Pony felt kind of bad for her considering how old she was and having to deal with high schoolers of all things. Pony nodded and took the book from her. “You do know where that classroom is, don’t you?”

“Yep!” Pony made sure to smile all polite like how his Ma taught him to. She (and now Darry) was a stickler for being nice to old people. Not that Pony would want to be mean to them even if they weren’t real nice to him. That would be like kicking a puppy just cause you’re stronger which is messed up to put it simply. “I’ll be back soon,” he called. He was met with some waves back. He honestly didn’t want to deliver the book, but as the library aide it’s kinda what he signed up for.

As he rounded the corner, a solid body collided with his. That’s the bad thing about being as small as Pony was; bumping into people can easily disorientate you. “Oh, I’m so—”

“Pony?” Cherry’s green eyes stared into his. They were bright and calculating, but not this time. They were subdued and bleeding with nervousness that Pony never saw in her before. She didn’t look as put together as she usually did. Her hair was the slightest bit out of place, clothes a little wrinkled. Pony frowned as Cherry tried to smooth herself out. It didn’t work much.

“You okay?” he asked. Cherry waved his concern away like it was no big deal. “I found your locket.” She took it from him gingerly and balled it up in her fist. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled. Pony wasn’t sure if it was supposed to reassure him or to reassure herself. He kept his mouth shut though. “Where are you heading?”

“Upstairs,” Pony held up the book. “Gotta deliver this. Do you, uh, want to come with?”

“Yeah!” Cherry smiled again and it felt more genuine. Not much was said for a while after that. Pony opened his mouth to say something, but Cherry beat him to the punch. “Pony? Have you ever seen something unusual? Like it shouldn’t even exist, but it does and it makes your heart pound?”

“What are you talking about?” “

Like stuff of fairytales, myths,” Cherry gently turned him towards her. No one else was around. It was just them in a hallway of closed doors. “You’ve ever seen anything like that?”

“Cherry—” Pony couldn’t even get a word in before Cherry continued.

“I went in the woods with Bob and his sleazy friends,” Cherry tossed her hands up. “They were drunk like always and I didn’t have Marcia with me because she was doing student council.” She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “And I wanted to go home so I pleaded and pleaded, but Bob kept messing around with his friends and ignoring me. Then, their bones popped and moved out of place and- and they morphed into these big wolves.” She wiped her eyes again.

“You don’t have to continue,” Pony said softly. “I get it.”

“You do?” Cherry asked. Her voice was so small. She wasn’t as bold as Pony came to know her as. Pony nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Pony wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You’re okay.”

Cherry sobbed into his collarbone. “You’re too good! God, you’re so good.”

* * *

Pony tapped his pencil against his desk. He already finished his work so it’s not like he had anything to do. His eyes trailed to the glass in the door. It didn’t show much of the hallway, but it was something to look at. He wasn’t sure how long he spent looking through it when a certain towheaded greaser walked by. Pony bit his lip, glancing over to the teacher standing at the front of the room. His hand flew into the air. “Yes, Mr. Curtis?” the teacher stared at him over her glasses.

“Can I use the restroom?”

“Do be quick.”

“Will do,” Pony scrambled out of his desk and into the hall. He wasn’t coming back, but the teacher didn’t need to know that. He won’t be missed. His classmates will make sure of that. Besides, it’s his last class of the day. “Dally!” Pony jogged up to the older greaser. “Where are you going?”

Dally looked at him sideways. “Anywhere that ain’t here. You comin’?”

Pony tried not to let the surprise show on his face. “Really?”

“I’m offerin’, ain’t I?” Dally patted Pony’s shoulder. “Come on, kid.”

“Okay!” Pony followed Dally to the parking lot. It was amazing how easy it was to skip in this school. Dally stuck a cancer stick between his lips. He offered one to Pony, but Pony turned it down. Dally handed him a lighter and Pony carefully lit the cigarette for him. “Dally?” Dally grunted in response, puffing smoke out the window. “When I was with the Shepards, I found a locket.”

“Tim mentioned that.”

“I gave it back to the owner today,” Pony held onto the seatbelt, twisting it in his hands. “She knows about werewolves now cause of Bob and his buddies. Can —”

“No,” Dally’s eyes were icy when they met Pony’s. “‘M sorry she found out and all, but we ain’t helpin’ her.” Dally ignored Pony’s pouting and tossed his cigarette out the window.

“I don’t see why not,” Pony mumbled. “She’s gonna need help with a boyfriend like that.”

“There are some things, you just don’t understand.” 

"Then tell me so I do!” Pony hated how whiny he sounded, but he couldn't help it. It sucks being the baby of the Gang. Especially being the baby when everyone else is a werewolf and you’re just some lousy human. “You guys don’t tell me things. It’s not fair.” Pony turned towards the window so Dally didn’t see how his eyes welled up with tears.

Dally’s hand rubbed circles into Pony’s neck. “Quit cryin’, you big baby,” Dally said. “I’ll tell Dar you’re fixin’ to know.”

“Really?” Pony wiped at his eyes. Dally’s hand slipped back to the steering wheel.

“Sure,” Dally grinned at him. “Now wanna get into some trouble?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would any of y'all be interested in me taking key scenes from prior chapters and showing it in someone else's pov like Dally or Curly or Johnny or whatever??


	21. It's the older Curtis boys!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These were supposed to be short, but then Darry's POV ended up pretty long and I couldn't do Darry's POV and not Soda's

_Darry, Chapter 4:_

Darry closed the drawer, wiping his hands with a ratty, old towel that no one could bring themselves to get rid of. It was just him in the house for the time being. Not that he was complaining. He loves the Gang to death, but God have mercy they’re loud. He stuck his head out the kitchen when he heard feet go up the front steps and the telltale creak of the door. His brows furrowed as he took in the appearance of the youngest members.

Both looked ruffled, but Pony even more so. His eyes were wide with fear flashing through them like a faulty stop light. “Everything okay?” Darry had to ask. He scanned them for any injuries. Nothing. They appeared relatively unharmed, but you can never be too sure. He was stepping fully into the living room when Pony blurted out the one thing he hoped the kid would never know. Werewolves.

Soda’s been laying into him about telling Pony,but it was never the right time in Darry’s opinion. Pony was too small. Too delicate for such a lifestyle. Deep down he knew he’d have to tell the kid eventually, but he at least hoped it was on his terms. He sank into his recliner. Pony rambled on and on about what happened. Darry couldn’t even bring himself to listen.

Darry (and the rest of the Gang for that matter) is gonna have to be on high alert. Pony hated being coddled like that, but it’s for his own good. All them years ago, Darry made a promise. He was just six years old then. His Ma had placed Pony in his arms cause he was finally old enough to hold a baby. Just like the first time he saw Soda (and named him. Darry was surprised his parents even took his suggestion), he knew he’d do whatever it takes to protect him. That was his littlest brother with big, faraway, green eyes and little freckles dashed over his nose who went through books like he needed him to breathe. The baby. The pup. The runt cause he’s still so small and scares Darry half to death every day cause he’s so smart yet he doesn’t use his head.

“You’re gonna have to have someone with you at all times,” he finally said, running a hand down his face. Pony frowned and Darry wanted to lean over and wipe at the wrinkles cause Pony was far too young for such an expression. Thank God for Johnny and the fact Pony didn’t protest much. The kid could be real mouthy if he wanted to be. He’s gonna have to tell Soda and make sure Dally and Two-bit get home okay. He’s the leader of this pack. Everyone knows that. It was his duty to make sure his pace was safe. Heaven forbid anything happen to their pup. Not on his watch. Like hell anyone would try. Like hell.

* * *

_Soda, Chapter 13:_

“Dar,” Soda mumbled. “Pony will be okay, right?” Darry glanced back at him, hand resting on the front gate. “I don’t know. I just…” Darry ruffled Soda’s hair as he came closer.

“You worry too much,” Darry said. “He’ll be okay. We’ll be right outside.” Soda bit his lip. His eyes flicked back to the house where his baby brother currently was at. Alone. In the dark. Pony hated being alone and Soda hated leaving him all by his lonesome. He opened his mouth so say maybe he should stay home when Darry gently coaxed him out. Guess his decision was made, huh?

It didn’t take long for the rest of the gang to show up. They only had a couple minutes. “Remember, stay close to the house,” Darry put his hands on his hips, unconsciously making himself look bigger. Soda thought he looked kinda silly doing it; made him look like Superman. The full moon was at the highest point of the sky. Soda heard his bones pop before he felt it. They shifted and elongated and sent him to his knees. Fur sprouted all over his body; all over his hands, his face, his neck.

It was a saving grace that the transformation didn’t take that long. Just a couple,agonizing minutes. It’s been years and Soda is still not that used to it. That desensitized to it like Darry or Dally. When his mind cleared, all he could think about was his pup. Such a tiny little thing. Needs more food. Pup gave him a scare a while back. Hurt his ankle. Steve had to catch him. Pup will need a lot of protection. He’ll be huffy about it, but the pack agreed that he needs it. He’s too small to fight and doesn’t have his claws yet.

Soda trotted after Steve, lowering himself to the ground. He pounced and landed on Steve. Steve growled and tried to bite, but Soda was just too quick. They chased after each other, jumping over the other’s head until Darry growled at them to stop. Right. They have to protect pup. They circled the property though Soda still played with Steve when Darry wasn’t paying attention. They were on their fifth pass when Soda caught whiff of an unfamiliar scent.

He yapped, turning towards the smell. It smelled like another pack, but not a friendly one. There were multiple and they were coming closer. Darry howled a warning. Other pack didn’t listen. There were too many of them for someone to stay with pup. They have to fight. Snarls filled the air. Soda loved fighting. The rush. The thrill. The pack was very good at it even if they weren’t as big as Tim’s pack or the Brumly’s.

A bang rang out. The other pack fled with their tails between their legs. Soda couldn’t celebrate. He was too worried about pup. It came from the house. Two-bit and Johnny sprinted back to the house. Soda would’ve been right with them if he didn’t stop so often to look back at Darry and Dally. Steve was helping, but Dally was hurt really bad. Needed help even if he kept growling at them to go ahead.

It smelt bitter when he finally got to the house. Like blood and tears. Pup was shaking. Johnny tried to comfort him. Two-bit pushed the revolver away from them. Soda wanted to follow the pup upstairs like how Johnny and Two-bit were doing, but Dally and Steve were hurt. Soda licked gingerly at both of their wounds. He couldn’t wait anymore. He whined, trotting in place. Darry huffed and barked at him to go. Soda never went up the stairs faster. Pup was on the bed. Soda sniffed around. Pup didn’t seem harmed. Johnny and Two-bit went downstairs once they realized he was there. He paced around the open spot on the bed. Didn’t want to crush pup. Soda settled down next to the pup who was breathing softly. He must’ve been tired. Soda licked at pup’s forehead to soothe him. Soda stayed like that until morning.


	22. idk what to name my chapters anymore

When Pony agreed to hang out with Dally, he wasn’t expecting much. Speeding through stop signs, scaring little kids, shoplifting (on Dally’s part). They did do all those things, but he never thought he’d end up in a public library of all places. It’s always a real struggle to get most of the Gang to even step foot into a library. Soda and Two-bit got too much energy and Dally and Steve think it’s a waste of time. Darry’s too busy and Pony didn’t like dragging Johnny to places even if he says he doesn't mind.

“What about this one?” Dally pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to Pony.

“You’re not supposed to smoke in here,” Pony made a face, but he took the book anyway. Dally rolled his eyes. “It’s about a group of British private school boys and..” Pony squinted at the blurb on the back. “...They try to survive on their own on an island and it’s a disaster.”

“Hm,” Dally blew out a ring of smoke. “You ever read it?”

“No,” Pony shook his head. “I might read it in English at some point.” Pony set the book down on the pile they got going. Dally would pull one randomly off the shelf, Pony would tell him what it’s about, and it’ll go in the pile cause Dally won’t put them back. Pony tried with the first two books and Dally would give him this unamused glare (that held no heat whatsoever), so he left it alone. Dally hands him another book.

“Here.”

“Oh!” Pony grinned. “I read this book!” Dally glanced at the cover.

“I read that too.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was alright,” Dally shrugged. Pony was honestly surprised the blond read something willingly, but he’d never say that. “Held my attention at least.” Pony couldn’t help the grin on his face. His cheeks were starting to hurt. Dally shoved at Pony’s face. “Quit lookin’ at me like that.”

“I’m not—” Dally shoved his face again. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dally squished Pony’s cheeks before finally relenting. Pony rubbed at his face, frowning a little. Jerk. Dally stretched out his legs.

“Do you still have that dog keychain?” Pony asked. Dally snorted and handed over his keys. Sure enough, mini Tex hung among a few keys that Dally haphazardly put on there. He took them off one by one to put them on there a little neater. One of them was completely crooked and Pony doesn’t know how someone could even do that. “What does this key go to?”

“Buck’s,” Dally lit up another cigarette. Pony spotted his old one just laying on the carpet like the fire hazard that it is. He frowned, swiping his hand in front of his face.

“Can we go get Johnny?” Pony quickly organized Dally’s keys and put the books back in the right spot. Well, kind of in the right spot. They’re at least back on the shelves, okay. He scrambled to grab the cigarette butt off the floor before Dally left him behind.

* * *

“Johnny!” Pony called out to the dark haired greaser from behind the fence. He had climbed onto it a little to make sure Johnny even noticed him. Dally stood nonchalantly behind him. Well, he tried to. Pony could kind of see him tense up here and there when Pony leaned a bit too far back.

“You skipped?” Johnny had his hands in his denim jacket.

“Kid’s a genuine hood now,” Dally piped up. “Skipping school and stuff.”

“Oh boy,” Johnny mumbled, taking Pony’s hand to get over the fence.

“I don’t skip that much,” Pony grumbled.

“Ol’ Superman gon’ have himself a heart attack,” Dally shook his head.

“What about Superman?” Two-bit leaned against the fence.

“Glory, Two!” Pony held a hand to his chest. “You scared the crap outta me!”

“Sorry, puppy,” Two-bit didn’t sound sorry at all. He grinned and hopped over the fence. “I was just talkin’ to some of them Brumly boys about what they heard.” The Brumly Boys, while dumber than a sack of rocks, are some of the best at finding out stuff about just about anything. “You kids wanna go on an adventure?”

“You ain’t driving my car, Mathews,” Dally put his hands on Pony’s and Johnny’s shoulder, guiding them to where he parked, albeit badly (he was crooked as all hell).

“Aw, come on!” Two-bit jogged after them. “You don’t even know where we’re going.”

“You can tell me in the passenger seat,” Dally said.

* * *

“An alleyway?” Pony scrunched up his face. “What’s down there?”

“Trash,” Dally deadpanned. Pony kicked the back of Dally’s seat.

“They saw a couple of guys down there,” Two-bit gestured lazily to the alleyway. “They didn’t get a good look at them, but knew they had to be up to good. I mean, who hangs out in alleyways?”

“You mean other than us?” Johnny stepped out of the car with Pony following quickly after. The alleyway was filthy and that was pretty it real lightly. It took everything in Pony’s power to not cover his nose at the stench oozing out of the trash bins. A wet nose brushed against his hand. He wrapped his arms around Two-bit, burying his face in the reddish brown fur. He was met with a wet tongue.

“Aw, geez,” Pony wiped at his cheek. Two-bit stood up like Pony wasn’t completely on his back. It was kind of like riding a horse or at least that’s what Pony kept telling himself so he didn’t fall face first into concrete. He was surprised he was even able to just sit on Two-bit’s back. Wouldn’t it hurt? They aren’t normal canines though so he guessed it was fine. They sniffed around on the ground while Pony just sat there from his slightly elevated view. They kept coming back to this one spot and recoiled from it.

Pony slid off and knelt in front of it. Dally was huffing from somewhere behind him. The dirt etched into his nails as he dug into the spot. Pony could hear them getting antsy behind him the more he dug. His fingers hit something solid. He brushed it off the best that he could even with all the whining and low howls. “What is this?” He held it up to the dim light peaking in. His blood ran cold. A silver bullet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are being safe and washing your hands. Especially, in a time like this.


	23. what do you mean we gotta be careful now

Nausea crept and scratched up Pony’s throat. With shaky hands, he put the bullet back where he found it; covered it up with the dirt that peeked out through the exposed bits of concrete. This is probably why you don’t go digging in dirty alley ways. You find weird stuff. He glanced back at the wolves. They sat there, hackles practically raised to the heavens. Pony smiled a little.

Well, he tried to if only to put himself at more ease. “Can we leave?” he asked, tilting his head. They copied his movement. Okay, that’s kind of cute. Just a little. “No, seriously.”

“Sure,” Dally was crouched where he previously stood as a wolf. Pony was a tiny bit glad that the change back wasn’t as...theatrical as the initial transformation. Dally had this look on his face. His brows were furrowed and he was frowning. Well, Dally always frowned. This time just felt different. Pony didn’t have much time to think about it before Dally smoothed his expression back into nothing.

* * *

“Sir,” Steve put out his hand and pushed Two-bit’s chest. “We got a no dog policy in this here DX.” Dally rolled his eyes, motioning Pony and Johnny to follow after him as he slipped past.

“Is that so?” Two-bit grinned. “Then how’d you bozos get this job?”

“Ay, Randle,” Dally wandered through the aisles. “Where’d you guys put the phone?”

Two-bit slapped his knee, shoulders shaking as he bent over. “Over there,” Steve said in between laughter. “It’s over there somewhere.”

“Gee, thanks,” Dally muttered. He sauntered over to where the phone was hidden behind some shelves. Pony thought about asking who Dally was gonna call, but Dally clearly wanted a private conversation with how he covered the receiver with his body. Pony went over to Soda, who sat at the cash register, looking bored as all get out. “

You guys get any customers?” Soda shook his head.

“It’s pretty much been only you guys,” Soda rested his chin in his hand. Most of the DX’s customers were girls cause Soda worked here. Of course, they’re not only here for him, but Soda was a bonus. “I can’t complain though. Steve and I been playin’ darts.” Soda pointed to where they haphazardly put up a dart board. It looked as if it’ll come down at any second. “As you can see, I am very much winning.”

“Yeah, ok,” Steve scoffed. “We still got that car in the garage.”

“You wanna help out?” Soda turned his attention back to Pony. What help was he gonna be? Pony agreed anyway cause he almost always did when Soda invited him to do stuff with him. Pony’s never been in the garage. Probably because he’s not an employee and he most definitely doesn’t have a car. He hopped onto a stack of tires. “Tell us about your day, puppy.”

“Please don’t,” Steve opened the hood of the car.

“Well,” Pony said, straightening his back.

“Oh my God,” Steve groaned.

“I hung out with Dally,” Pony picked up one of the wrenches.

“Mhm,” Soda peered into the car. Steve mumbled something to Soda.

“We went back to school and got Two-bit and Johnny.”

“Didn’t Two drive to school?” Steve asked. “Give Soda the smaller wrench.”

“I don’t know,” Pony picked up the second wrench and held it up. They looked the same. Hesitantly, he handed one to Soda. “Two said some of the Brumly Boys saw something in the alley.”

“What alley?” Soda loosened something and handed the wrench back to Pony.

“Um, the one by the record store.”

“Ah. Can I have the pliers?” Pony handed it over. He at least knew what that was. Soda tried to teach him about cars and stuff, but Pony honestly didn’t care too much about cars like how Steve did or how Soda kind of did.

“So, we went to the alley way and we found something. I had to dig it up.” Steve and Soda hummed nonchalantly. Pony didn’t really think either was fully listening, but it’s fine. “I found a silver bullet.”

Steve whacked his head against the hood, cursing up a storm. Soda looked frazzled for a second before he smiled that smile he always did to hide how nervous he was. “What?”

“I..found a silver bullet,” Pony said slowly. “It was buried in the dirt.”

“Is it still there?” Steve held the back of his head.

“I mean, it should be.”

Soda worried his bottom lip. “What..What else did you do, puppy?”

“Soda—” Pony stopped himself. “Dally bought me and Johnny a milkshake.”

“That’s awfully nice of him.”

“Mhm,” Pony wanted to say something, anything, about what he found in the alley, but he could tell Soda (and Steve) didn’t want to hear more about that. So, he talked about mindless things. He didn’t have a clue what he was saying. He just kept talking, so their shoulders wouldn’t be so tense.

* * *

“Kid, hurry up!” Steve called over his shoulder. “I can and will leave you here.” Normally, when someone says something like that, they’re just kidding. They won’t actually leave you. Steve, on the other hand, will leave him. The rest of the gang would never let him, but if he had the opportunity he would. “Get in the middle,” he got in the car, not even waiting for a response.

Pony scrunched up his nose, but kept his mouth shut. He would rather get really sick than sit in the middle. Everyone knows that’s the worst seat in any car. No one willingly sits in the middle. He should’ve taken Dally’s offer to go home with him. Soda slid in next to Pony.

“You think we’re gonna have a meeting?” Soda asked Steve.

“Probably.”

“You guys have meetings without me?” Pony slouched against Soda’s side.

“It’s werewolf business,” Soda squished Pony’s cheeks. “You’re just a baby.”

“A runt,” Steve added.

“I’m not even that small!” Pony removed Soda’s hands from his face.

“‘I’m not even that small,’” Steve mocked. “You can’t even reach the top shelf.”

“I can to!”

“Can you?” Soda tried so hard to not smile, but Soda was never good at not smiling.

“You guys are so mean to me,” Pony huffed. Darry and Dally’s cars were already in the driveway when they pulled up. Darry waved them over.

“Okay,” Darry looked so tired. He didn’t even swat Pony away when he sat on the arm of the recliner. “Let’s...just get this started, yeah?” It made Pony a little (a lot) uncomfortable with how serious everyone looked. Even Two-bit looked serious and he’s almost never serious. “Full moon’s coming up and from what Dally told me we’re in for a hell of a time.”

“What are we gonna do about..” Johnny gestured vaguely in Pony’s direction. And then everyone turned towards Pony and, man, he’s never wanted to die more.

“Unfortunately, we’re gonna have to be overprotective,” Darry maintained eye contact with him for a few seconds before returning his gaze back to the rest of the gang. “If there are hunters in Tulsa, I’d feel a whole lot better knowing we’re vigilant and constantly around Pony.”

“You think there’s hunters?” Soda asked. Pony held out his hand and Soda gave it a squeeze, not letting go despite the awkward distance.

“Maybe,” Darry said finally. “Until we know more, we gotta be careful outside. We don’t know what we’re up against.”


	24. In true protagonist fashion, Pony just doesn't listen

“Dally?” Pony pushed branches away from his face. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, leaving soft light everywhere. “Dal? Johnny?” He couldn’t hear anything other than leaves crunching under his sneakers. He huffed. In hindsight, it’s not real smart to follow anyone into the woods, but Dally wanted to teach him something. Why it couldn’t have been done in the lot or something was beyond him. “Dally, come on! This ain’t funny!” His foot caught on an outstretched root.

“We’re almost there,” Dally’s hand gripped Pony’s bicep. 

“Where are we even going?” Pony allowed Dally to pull him upright. Dally, of course, didn’t respond. He led them to a clearing where Johnny was setting up cans. Before Pony could ask any more questions, Dally pulled a heater out of his waistband and handed it to him.

“Glory, kid!” Dally forced the barrel away from them. “Don’t point that shit at me!”

“Sorry.” The heater felt so heavy in his hands. He hasn't held one since the very first full moon he experienced with the Gang. He didn’t have a clue what he was doing. Sure, he fired, but that was out of pure luck and not knowledge being behind it. Dally centered him in front of the cans.

“I’m teaching you how to shoot,” Dally said, firmly looking Pony square in the eyes. “I want ya to at least know what you’re doin’. Lemme see what ya got.” He patted Pony’s shoulder.

“Okay,” Pony tentatively raised the revolver. Dally reached over and adjusted how Pony was holding it. His hands shook a little as he held it up. He fired.

“Nice,” Dally said, his hand pressing against the small of Pony’s back. “Steady yourself more. I ain’t gonna be here to make sure you don’t stumble back. Ready?”

“Yeah,” Pony fixed his stance. He aimed, eyes instinctively closing. The clang from hitting the can rang through the clearing. Johnny let out a low whistle. He slowly peeked open one eye.

“Keep your eyes open,” Dally was true to his word. Pony didn’t know where he was, but he wasn’t anywhere behind him. Pony looked back. Dally had his hands deep in his pockets, leaning against a tree Johnny had sat under. “You aren’t bad. Just be more assertive.” Easy for him to say. “Now, knock the rest of them down.” Pony sighed, turning back to the cans. He aimed.

* * *

“I don’t see why I have to go to bed anyway,” Pony mumbled. He shifted uneasily on the bottom step. He knew he should just go upstairs and listen to Darry instead of adding more stress onto the already tense werewolves. “It’s only seven.” 

“Because I said so,” Darry gave him a pointed look. Pony knew it was cause of the full moon creeping in that Darry’s words held a bit more bite to them. Didn’t stop the little sting it brought. “Now get.” Pony bit his lip, staying right where he was. “Look,” Darry said more gently. 

“Can’t I just sit down here with the lights off?”

“No, Pony.”

“But—” Soda put a hand on Pony’s shoulder.

“Go upstairs, puppy,” Soda squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“Stay upstairs,” Darry leaned down to be eye level with Pony. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Pony said reluctantly. Darry patted his cheek.

“Good boy,” Darry turned to the gang. “Ready?” And that’s Pony’s cue to leave. He was halfway up the stairs when Dally stopped him.

“Hey,” Dally leaned against the railing. “Here.” Pony tentatively grabbed the revolver out of Dally’s outstretched hand. Dally turned to go outside like the others.

“Be safe!” Pony blurted out. The corner of Dally’s mouth quirked up.

“Sure,” Dally inclined his head before sauntering outside like he wasn’t about to turn into a wolf seconds later. Pony headed upstairs. It was awful being alone up here. It was even more awful being up here alone with a heater. He sank onto his bed. There’s not much that he can do right now. It was dark out and the gang were slinking around like it didn’t grip Pony’s lungs with unease.

He ended up forcing himself to take a nap. He awoke around fifteen minutes later. He wasn’t sure what woke him up. His mind was so groggy and filled thoughts of going back to bed. A low whine followed by a huffing noise came from outside. Pony knows he should stay where he is. Really he does. It’s not gonna stop him from going outside though. He crept outside, revolver securely (well as secure as it can get when you’re shaking like a leaf) in his hand. Goosebumps rippled up his arms as he forgot to grab a jacket and shoes for that matter. The good thing is that the full moon provided a little light.

He kept the revolver slightly out in front of him. The gang wasn’t anywhere near the front gate, so they must be near the back. The concrete was rough under his bare feet and he really wished he used his head for once and grabbed a pair before he decided to recklessly head out. A rusty tail peeked out from behind the house. “Two-bit?” he whispered. Pony didn’t think it was possible for a canine to look that unimpressed. Two-bit padded over and nudged him towards the back door. “Two?”

Two-bit stopped pushing him and stood still. Even though his hearing wasn’t nearly as good, Pony could hear the steady approach of boots. It would make more sense to just quickly open the back door and let Two-bit go in before him. But of course, Pony didn’t do that. It took a bit of haggling, but Pony managed to, thankfully, cover most of Two-bit so he didn’t look like a wolf. 

The boots stopped in front of the wire fence. The man was tall, covered head to toe in black with a rifle perched on his back. He’s the type of man you would go out of your way to avoid if you saw him. “Ain’t it real late for a kid like you to be outside?”

“My dog got out,” Pony said slowly. “Besides, what’s it to ya?” If Two-bit didn’t like being held down like that, then he at least didn’t squirm too much. Although, he did let out low growls that Pony could feel in his bones. The man held up his hands.

“Just tryin’ to make sure you’re safe.”

“I don’t need your help,” Pony shifted his hold on Two-bit. “I can handle myself. Thank you.”

“If you see any wolves ‘round here,” the man held out a card. Pony glared at it. “Give me a call.”

“Bye,” Pony said loudly over his offer. He’d feel bad about cutting an adult off like that, but Pony just wanted him to leave. The man stuck the card between an opening in the fence. He smiled a smile that Pony didn’t bother returning before sauntering off to wherever it is that he came from. Pony watched him go, heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t let go until the man was far from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite having all the time in the world to write, I still do every other Thursday. Would you guys be open to me doing POV shifts not too often, but when I get really stuck on the main story??


	25. Can y'all tell I don't know what I'm doing

Pony slowly relaxed his grip on Two-bit. He didn’t completely get off just yet though. “That guy gives me the creeps,” he said, staring at the gleaming card. It stuck out from the fence like a plague. It’s a piece of paper, sure, but it made him feel icky. Gross in a way that rivaled the socs with the rings. Two-bit huffed. Absently, Pony scratched at the wolf’s ear. “Are the others okay?”

They’re smart. They hid that they were werewolves for a good while. Although, Pony guessed that doesn’t really count cause he’s not that observant. They’re probably just hidden away somewhere beyond the fence. Maybe even in the neighborhood behind the house. As long as that guy didn’t find them. Pony leaned down so he made eye contact with Two-bit. “Can we go inside now?”

He stood up, brushing his knees off. Holding the screen door open, Pony waited for the wolf to pad inside first. Two-bit sure took his time though; stretching and shaking himself off before he finally went inside. With a fleeting glance at the card, Pony pulled the door shut behind him.

* * *

Pony hopped onto the DX counter, drumming his fingers against the smooth surface. Steve glared at him from over the shelves. Pony was surprised Soda and Steve even went into work today. They looked so exhausted after a full moon. They always did. Pony worried his bottom lip. 

The dingy, old bell rang above the door. “Curly?” Pony slid off the counter. Curly smiled a little. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a mess. He didn’t seem harmed though. Just tired like everyone else. Pony wrapped his arms around Curly’s middle. “Where have you been?”

Curly shrugged. “Tim has me and some other boys doing shit. We got hunters now.”

“I know,” Pony mumbled. “One of them gave me a business card. Where did they come from?”

Curly buried his nose in Pony’s hair. “Does it even matter?” It didn’t. Not really. Didn’t stop Pony from wondering though. Were they from out of town? Or did they live somewhere on the richer side of Tulsa? They’re hunting werewolves for sure cause there’s nothing else they could hunt here. Does that mean they’ll go after those socs? “You think too much.” Curly’s voice was muffled.

“No, I don’t,” Pony said. “I think a normal amount.” A silence fell over them. This hug was a lot longer than Pony initially planned it to be. Not that he was complaining really. It was nice. Warm like how Soda’s hugs were and safe like how Darry’s occasional hugs were. Pony honestly could go the whole day staying like this with Curly, but he had a feeling Curly wouldn’t want that.

He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who enjoyed hugs. Pony moved to pull back, but Curly tightened his arms. “Hey,” Curly whispered. “Can we stay like this a little longer?”

“Yeah,” Pony said. He tried hard to not let his surprise shine through. “Yeah, no problem.”

Thanks.”

* * *

Pony grabbed books off the shelves here and there. A couple of them he placed on the small, rickety cart the librarians used. The rest went back where he found it regardless if it was the right spot or not. Pony loved the library, really he did, but it was a tad tiring to only have the librarians as company most of the time. Some kids do come in, but they’re loner kids.

They definitely just want to read and not have a chat with some greaser freshman. He rolled the cart past the magazine section, passing Dally who was slouched in one of the chairs. Dally looked as if he was taking a nap or something, but Pony knew he wasn’t. His icy eyes would follow Pony if he was close by. Pony was surprised the blond was willing to just sit there cause the two hadn’t said a single word the entire period. Pony liked these moments though. 

Sure, it was mighty awkward cause no one is saying a thing, but it was...nice. It was a rare treat to see Dally lower his walls. One that made warmth blossomed in Pony’s chest. “Ay,” Dally called, stretching out his legs. “You ever get bored doin’ all this, kid?”

“Sometimes,” Pony admitted. “It’s real quiet and I don’t always see anyone.” Dally raised his eyebrows and didn’t say anything else. “I’m not kidding. It’s nice.”

“Whatever you say.”

Pony glanced at the books on the cart. He didn’t think he missed any for delivery. “I gotta go deliver these,” he watched the other greaser sigh heavily and stand up. “You don’t gotta come.”

“I do,” Dally stuck his hands deep into his pockets. “I didn’t show up today cause I liked the scenery. Where we headin’?” Pony grabbed all of the books off of the cart.

“Upstairs mostly,” he stumbled a little under the weight. It wouldn’t have been so bad if this kid in the science hall didn’t need a textbook to be delivered to him.

“You got it?”

“Yeah. I got it.”

Dally didn’t look like he believed him and grabbed a couple books from Pony, tucking it under his armpit. “Lead the way, kid.” 

Their sneakers echoed against the tile floor. Every step seemed so loud; deafening as it rivaled the clinking of Pony’s aide ID. It always made him kind of skittish to be the only one making a sound when he’s alone. Sure, he liked being alone, but he didn’t like what the silence brought. He glanced over at Dally. Dally met his gaze cooly, widening his eyes for a second before he turned back to staring straight ahead. Pony thought he could see a ghost of a smile on his lips.

They got a couple weird looks when they handed the teachers the respective book. It was mostly directed towards Dally who stood stoically in the doorway. They didn’t have much left to deliver then it’s back to the library until the block ended. They turned a corner.

A solid frame collided with Pony. “I’m so—” Pony stopped mid apology. “Cherry?”


	26. Wild Socs Appear

“Pony!” Cherry’s eyes widened a little as she stepped back. She cleared her throat, tucking her red hair behind her ears. “Hi! It... been a while.” She eyed Dally curiously.

“I would see you in the hall sometimes, but you were always too far,” Pony didn’t know why he felt so fidgety. It’s Cherry. He talked to her loads of times; hours on end sometimes. And yet, he didn’t know what to do with his hands and his eyes kept flickering over to where Dally stood.

Dally crossed his arms, holding Cherry’s gaze coolly. If it was anyone else, Pony wouldn’t have thought too much about it. Dally isn’t known to be nice by any means except to the gang and sometimes Tim. Dally’s jaw was set too tightly and his eyes were too narrowed for this to be his normal dislike of people. This felt more personal like they had a background Pony didn’t know about.

“Sorry,” Cherry tore her attention away from Dally. “The newspaper and my family have been keeping me busy. I had some cousins fly in from Arkansas a couple days ago for business.”

“What do they do?” Pony asked. Dally huffed behind him. Pony ignored it.

“Some weird thing,” she waved his question off. “They want me to help them by taking pictures of stuff to promote it. They don’t get much business.”

“That’s real nice,” Dally clasped his free hand onto Pony’s shoulder. “Why don’t ya run along now and do whatever it is folks like you do.” Cherry’s face flushed a red that rivaled her hair.

“‘Folks like me’?” her knuckles were white from how tightly she held her camera. “What does that mean?” This is probably why you don’t let your two wildly different friend groups meet. But of course, they did and Pony really, really wished that this whole encounter didn’t happen.

“Well, it was nice seeing you,” Pony said quickly. “We gotta go now.”

“It means whatever you think it means, doll,” Dally grunted when Pony jabbed his elbow into the older greaser’s side. “Ow, kid.”

“We gotta finish delivering these books,” Pony turned towards Cherry. “I’ll...see you later?”

“Sure,” Cherry gave Dally one last glare to which he rolled his eyes. “Can I take a picture of you first? For the yearbook.” Pony hesitated.

“Um, sure.”

“Say cheese,” Cherry held up her camera. Dally tried to move out of the way, but Pony held onto his sleeve. There was no way he was gonna be in this picture alone. He hated photos. They only take a couple minutes, but they always seemed to take way too long and Pony never sat still enough for them. He made sure to smile nicely like how his Ma would want.

_Click_! Pony blinked as the bright light of the flash hit his eyes. Man, he hoped he wasn’t blinking in the photo. Cherry lowered the camera, a big smile on her face. As soon as it was over, Dally pried Pony’s fingers off his sleeve and stepped as far away as possible while still being in reach.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Pony asked.

“Oh, for sure,” Cherry said. And with a quick wave, she continued walking to wherever it was she was going before she, literally, ran into Pony.

“That was mean, Dal,” Pony said when she was out of sight.

“I’m always mean, kid,” he grabbed the back of Pony’s neck. “That’s my whole shtick.” Pony frowned. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What look?”

“The one you’re givin’ me right now,” Dally kept his hand firmly where it was. It reminded Pony of Darry since the two of them are just about the only people who did this. It grounded him, sure, but it also, like a lot of things, made Pony jittery as hell. “Look, she smells off.”

“Cherry?” Pony ducked his head a little to see if Dally would let up. He didn’t. “Either it’s her or it’s whoever she’s been around,” Dally didn’t continue the thought. “Let’s go deliver this book so I can sleep.” Pony allowed himself to be led by the towheaded greaser, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what Dally said. His sense of smell ain’t nearly as strong as everyone else in the Gang. So when one of them says someone smells off (whatever that means), he has to take it with a grain of salt. Socs aren’t the most trustworthy of people. Well, maybe he shouldn’t just lump them all together like that cause Cherry was trustworthy. She’s kind and smart and gestured with her hands a lot when she talks. She probably picked up the scent from someone around her. Yeah, that’s it.

* * *

Pony wrapped his arms around his knees, watching Two-bit and Steve fool around in the parking lot. The trunk bed was starting to dig into him a bit, but he stayed where he was. “Yer a lil’ cheat, Mathews,” Steve struggled to get out of the headlock Two-bit put him in. Despite how harsh his words sounded, Steve was grinning all the while.

“I ain’t,” Two-bit laughed. “Ya should get a lil’ bit stronger, Stevie boy!” Johnny walked up to the truck, hands deep in his pockets. Pony gave him a smile which Johnny returned.

“Who’s winning?” Johnny pointed at Two-bit and Steve.

“I don’t know,” Pony shrugged. They’ve just been going at it while Pony sat in the truck bed and watched. They’re supposed to be watching him, but they haven’t paid him a lick of attention. “I guess Two is winnin’ if I had to pick one.” Johnny nodded before hopping up to sit beside him. It was a nice fight even though it was clear they were just messing around. They didn’t hold back much. Probably because there’s no need to. Neither of them were small or some lousy human among a pack of werewolves. Dally hoisted a box into the truck.

“What are those clowns doin’ now?” he mumbled. Pony opened his mouth, but a loud engine cut him off. A blue mustang crept up the street. Two-bit slowly released Steve from his grip. Pony could feel Johnny’s fingers latch onto the back of his shirt. The tinted window rolled down.

“Hey, grease,” Bob’s face sneered out at them while Randy looked cold and entirely uninterested in the passenger seat. “Seems like we got a problem.”


	27. More POV shifts, but this time they add to your reading

_Johnny’s POV, Chapter 15_:

Johnny frowned as he watched Pony all but threw the textbook from his lap. “Randy?” Pony’s voice trembled a little. “Where’s your bathroom?” As soon as he got the directions, Pony stood up, thanked Randy quietly, and hurried out of the room. Johnny was alone with the soc now.

Randy was stretched out on the other couch, easygoing. Relaxed. It clashed with Johnny’s set jaw and tense posture. “Oh, come on,” Randy sighed. “You two have been tense the whole time. Relax.” Easy for him to say. Johnny hadn’t let up since Dally had dropped them off at the neighbourhood entrance. He wished the hood had come with them, but he had business at Buck’s.

“We are relaxed,” Johnny mumbled. It was a bare faced lie. Anyone with eyes can see they were more than uncomfortable. Randy sighed again like this was all inconvenient to him.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” he tilted his head. No. They most certainly were not.

“No,” Johnny said, bolder than he had intended. He cringed internally, but stuck to his guns. “We ain’t. Neither of us know each other like that.”

“No,” Randy agreed. “I suppose we don’t. That’ll change, huh?” He tapped the cover of a textbook. “I don’t think I did anything for you two be suspicious other than being strangers.”

“You did though.” The gang would be impressed, shocked even, with how bold he’s getting. A dangerous sort of bold that Dally and Tim and greasers like them participated in.

“Huh?”

“You did,” Johnny straightened his back. Not by much, but he wasn’t slouching as heavily as before. A tiny voice in the back of his head begged him to shut up, go back to being quiet and unassuming. He got so far though. It was the farthest he’s ever gotten. Sure, his throat’s gone all dry and he regrets the words that came out and he could feel himself deflate under Randy’s gaze. He couldn’t though. Not yet. He’ll fake it if he had to and he’ll continue to fake it if it’ll keep Pony safe. Pony needs someone who can be bold. He will never be reckless or not overthink, but he can bold. Sometimes.

“Like what?” Randy dropped all the friendliness he kept up before. The air was tense before, but it was borderline suffocating now. Johnny tried not to gulp too loud when he inhaled.

“Summer before school started. You and your friends drove around town.”

“We always do that.”

Johnny pointedly ignored the interruption. “You saw a lone greaser, got out the car, and jumped him just cause you could.”

Randy frowned. “I didn’t jump anyone.”

“But you were there,” Johnny stressed. He was there and he stood there laughing like it was all a big joke. Laughing as Bob slammed his ring-covered fist into Johnny’s face. Completely and utterly complacent like Johnny wasn’t getting the tar beaten out of him. Like they didn’t leave him there after. Like Two-bit wasn’t going to find him an hour later. Like Soda and Pony didn’t cry and Two-bit, Dally, Steve, and Darry weren’t so, so angry.

Randy shook his head. “You must be thinking of someone else.” He wasn’t. He knew all of them by face. Silence fell over them. Randy looked uncomfortable, but Johnny honestly didn’t care. It felt good to say that. That’s probably why Dally and Steve did it often without much hesitation. He didn’t think he'd do it again anytime soon. Too stressful. Someone might deck him and he wasn’t that fond of talking about his own issues, but for Pony? God, he’d do it for him (and the rest of the gang but they can handle themselves). They’d been attached at the hip since Johnny was six and saw a lone kid at the park. He’d do anything for anyone in the gang. If he had to be bolder than usual, then so be it.

* * *

_Cherry’s POV, from her anecdote in Chapter 20_:

Cherry wrapped her cardigan tighter around her chest. If she had known they’d make her leave the car, she’d have grabbed a warmer jacket. “Bob, where are we even going?” she batted a low hanging branch away from her face. Of course, Bob didn’t pay a lick of attention right away. He was goofing off ahead with Randy and James, spilling beer everywhere. She hated when he was drunk. He was obnoxious and smelled bad and he never seemed to care about her feelings.

It took some time for his eyes to focus on her. “Come on, Cherry!” he slurred. He almost spilled beer onto her shoes. “Live a little, baby!” He tried to kiss her, but she moved away.

“You’re drunk,” she frowned. “I’m serious, Bob!” Cherry shoved him away. This time, he actually did get beer on her shoes. It sank into her socks and she tried not to think too hard about it.

“You’re a prude,” Bob pointed a finger at her. “All long skirts and no fun.” And he laughed. Him and his friends. Cherry crossed her arms, biting her bottom lip. The boys kept moving. They didn’t even look back to see if she was coming. Cherry had to jog to keep up.

“Bob, it’s cold!” she called after their backs. “Can’t we go to your house? Warm up?” He ignored her to lean in to say something to Randy. “Come on! Let’s go home.” She was starting to sound whiny even to her own ears. She couldn’t help it though. None of them were listening and it was beginning to be more than a little chilly out. “Bob, please! It’s getting dark out. Let’s leave.” She narrowly missed a branch hitting her face. She wished Bob would listen for once and take her home or even give her the keys so she could do it herself. She would even take sitting in the car over this.

The boys were oddly silent up ahead. Cherry strained her ears, but still. Nothing. Their beers weren’t in their hands as they whispered to each other. Cherry opened her mouth only for a loud pop to beat her to it. It took her a second to recognize the sound. Bones. While gross, it wouldn’t have been that weird if they weren’t moving. They were shifting out of their sockets into shapes that weren’t natural. Inhuman. Terrifyingly so. It made her heart hammer in her chest.

They kept distorting and getting hairier and — Cherry stepped onto a branch. The crack echoed through the woods. Gold eyes stared at her from where her boyfriend and his friends used to be. They were huge. They’d tower over her should they stand on their hind legs. Her legs were shaky as she tried to slowly back away. It was no use though. They were much faster than she was. A scream tore from her throat as a paw yanked her locket from her neck. She was lucky it didn’t cut her.

She fell backwards, her hands scraping against the dirt. Cherry scrambled to get up. She really loved that locket. Even when she left it there in her hurry to get out of there. Branches scraped at her face and clothes, but she didn’t stop. Not even when it nicked her a bit too hard. Not even when the beasts were so close onto her heels that she could hear them panting. She kept going and going until she was long gone from the forest.

She kept going until her lungs burned and she was dry-heaving on some street corner she didn’t know. At some point, they weren't even following her anymore. Not that it mattered. She knocked timidly on the closest door. Her reflection showed how awful she looked; leaves in her windblown red hair and dirt caked onto her skin and clothes. She looked pitiful. She straightened her posture as a little old lady creaked open her door.

“Hi!” she smiled despite how badly she wanted to cry. “Can I use your phone?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the tags, because well violence. I sometimes worry that I make these characters too OOC, but I remember that this fic is honestly purely self indulgent and it stopped being a problem. Anyway, I'm going on hiatus so I can focus on my original novel for a bit without worrying about making sure I hit my updates. I'm not sure how long it'll be, but it'll be short while. See you guys when I come back!!


	28. This is a long chapter by my standards

Bob’s rings gleamed in the sunlight. He wore one on each lanky finger; none of them matching or duplicates. It was gaudy in the unkindest sense and entirely too excessive. It was nauseating to say the least. Leaning back, Bob drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. His grey eyes roamed lazily over the group of greasers before they landed on Pony.

He stared right through Pony. Sure, he was looking directly at him, but it felt as if he wasn’t. Like he was seeing something different. It made Pony’s skin crawl. He held Bob’s gaze though in what he hoped was defiance and not meek faux confidence. Steve stepped in between them.

Pony almost sighed in relief. “We got hunters now,” Bob said, uninterested.

“We know,” Steve replied. His shoulders were tense, knuckles white as he kept his fists at his side. The only ones who didn’t seem tense were Dally and Two-bit. They always were tuff like that, so Pony shouldn’t expect anything else. Bob held his hands up.

“Don’t get snappy with me, grease,” Bob hissed, his ‘good’ mood souring. He turned towards Randy who was rubbing at his ear. “You try to do a good thing only to be treated like shit in return.” Randy hummed in agreement. It wasn’t much of a response by any means, but boy did Bob run with it. It blew hot air into his ego and made him more big-headed than Pony thought was possible. Casually, Bob picked up a soda bottle, the cap screwed off. Before anyone could react, he tossed it straight at Steve. It took Two-bit and Dally sprinting over to hold Steve back. He was soaked.

The brown of the coke seeped into the white of Steve’s T-shirt. A mess of glass laid at their sneakers. Pony moved forward, wanting to do something. Anything at all, but Johnny’s fist still gripped his shirt and stopped him. Steve was cursing up a storm, while Bob just sat there grinning.

“Come on, Steve,” Two-bit urged. “Got a cop eyein’ us.” Steve ripped his arms out of their grip, storming past Pony and Johnny and slammed the truck’s door behind him.

“See ya around, grease.” The mustang’s tires squealed as the socs peeled off. It wasn’t until they were long gone that Johnny let Pony go. Pony turned to look at Steve. It was hard to see much from the back window. Plus, Steve was all hunched over that if Pony really wanted a look he’d have to move. He was going to do just that when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“He’ll be okay, puppy,” Two-bit said. “Give ‘em time to cool that hot head of his.”

“Okay…” Pony said finally. Two-bit squeezed his shoulder and hopped onto the truck bed.

“So, the cat’s out of the bag?” Johnny turned to Dally who lit up a cigarette.

“Seems that way,” Dally blew out a ring of smoke. “Word travels fast, huh?”

“The River Kings gonna do anything?” Two-bit asked. The River Kings (and the Tiber Street Tigers) are up north. You don’t really see them down in the southwest unless it’s greaser business.

“Nah,” Dally shook his head. “Last I heard from Tim, they’re butting heads with the Tigers right now.” Two-bit let out a low whistle. Pony was sure the River Kings and Tiber Street Tigers were always ‘butting heads’. There was always some wrong done by one of them to another.

“Again?” Johnny frowned. “What are they fighting about this time?”

“James got bit,” Dally said curtly. A weird silence fell over the group.

“Who’s James?” Pony asked. He doesn’t know anyone from up north. Just the folks in Tim’s gang and the Brumly Boys. Mostly because they talk to him and less the other way around.

“You don’t gotta worry about that,” Two-bit waved his question off.

“Man,” Johnny leaned back, putting his weight onto his elbows. “You sure?”

“Overheard it from Joey,” Dally said. Joey was the leader of the Brumly Boys. Smarter than his boys (not that it would be hard) and craftier too. He was nice enough. Always asking how Soda and Darry was doing and what not. “Kings were gonna induct the kid, but the Tigers beat ‘em to it.”

Pony tuned the rest of the conversation out. It clearly wasn’t meant for him, even if he was very much there. He hopped off the truck bed and walked around to the passenger side. He hesitated for a second before getting in. The inside was dark compared to the bright sun outside.

The tinted windows sure did their job. Steve didn’t look up when he got it. Just kept his forehead against the steering wheel. “What do you want, runt?”

“How do you know it’s me?” Pony asked.

“I could hear Two-bit and Dally outside,” Steve turned his head slightly, eyes narrowed. “Besides, I know what you smell like.” Pony tried not to think about how he has a certain smell to him that Steve (and most likely the rest of the gang) knows without second guessing.

“You okay?” Steve snorted.

“I’m fine.” He didn’t seem fine, but Pony kept that to himself. He wasn’t angry though. Maybe annoyed or frustrated, but not the red hot anger that boiled in Steve.

“Um,” Pony floundered for something to say.

“You ain’t gotta sit here,” Steve said. He tried to sound nicer. Pony could tell, but it fell flat with his harsher tone. “I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“What are we gonna do about the hunters?” Pony pointedly ignored what Steve said.

“We lay low.”

“Will that work?”

“It **has** to. We don’t have a choice.”

-*-

Pony fidgeted with the zipper of his jacket. Up, down, and up again until it got caught on the lining, so he left it. He turned his attention back to the movie screen. The hero squared his shoulders back; a firm expression on his face. It was a short battle. A couple minutes at most and, of course, the hero reigned victorious. If only real life was _that_ easy.

To be able to solve a conflict like the hunters and the Socs and how powerless Pony often felt cause the gang wouldn’t want him to get too involved in that sort of stuff quickly and with little hassle. That would be real nice. A thumb brushed against his forehead.

Startled, Pony turned to see Soda give him a soft smile. “You look so serious,” Soda whispered.

“I’m just thinking.”

“You always think so hard,” Soda said gently. He frowned for a second and it looked so weird on his face. Pony guessed he realized that too cause Soda perked back up. If it looked a little fake, neither brother mentioned it. “What are you thinking about anyway?”

“Will you guys be okay?” His question surprised Soda. He could tell. Soda’s eyebrows raised up to his hairline before eventually his face settled into something unreadable.

“Oh, puppy…”

Pony’s seen the movies. Watched them from the title card to the end credits because they were just fantasy then. A silly little tale for the sake of entertaining anyone who decided to watch. The hunter was always heroic and noble and brave with his silver bullets and good aim. The werewolf, on the other hand, was feared. A **monster**. Pony doesn’t think he’s ever seen them in a nice light.

It’s why they spooked him so bad when he found out even though he knows very well that the gang would never harm him. Soda smoothed back Pony’s hair. “Will you?”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about that,” Soda said. He paused, seemingly at a loss for words. “Ain’t your head supposed to be in the clouds? What are ya doing down here on Earth?”

“I’m not always in the clouds,” Pony pouted. He wasn’t! At least, he doesn’t think so. He just thinks a lot. There was so much to mull over now-a-days that Pony doesn’t think his mind had a moment of rest. Soda stood up and pulled Pony with him.

“Come on,” Soda tilted his head. “We gotta get going.” Pony gingerly stepped into Soda’s cupped hands. The Nightly Double got a bigger fence. Not that it’ll stop anyone really. Soda hoisted him up. Sure, they paid to get in and could just leave like normal people, but Soda liked to hop fences if given the opportunity. Pony stumbled a little when his sneakers hit the solid ground. A small sliver of sunlight was still on the horizon. Soon, it’ll be dark and the street lamps will turn on.

Soda landed smoothly next to him. “Show off,” Pony mumbled. Soda snickered and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Pony thought they were gonna walk home, but then Soda led him to a phonebooth. Soda let him in first before he closed the door behind them. It was tight fit. Probably because you’re not supposed to have two people in there. Soda rummaged through his pockets until he produced a quarter. Tucking the receiver under his chin, he put the quarter in and dialed.

Pony couldn’t see who he was calling. Wasn’t nearly enough light. So when Soda suddenly thrusted the receiver at him, Pony fumbled a little. “Hello?”

“Pony?” Darry’s low voice sent waves of relief over him. It was like he dunked his head under water and washed all his worries away. They’re still there, of course, but they weren’t as loud. “You alright?” Pony hummed, then realized that wasn’t really an answer.

“Uh-huh.”

“You sure?” Darry asked slowly. It took a couple seconds for Pony to realize that Darry wanted reassurance. That Pony was actually okay and wasn’t just saying he was.

“Yeah! I’m okay,” Pony looked over at Soda who was leaning against the side of the phonebooth. He wasn’t paying their conversation any mind. “...Are you?”

Darry exhaled through his nose. He sounded almost amused. If they were face-to-face, Pony bet he’d see the corners of Darry’s mouth lift up the way it does when he found stuff funny. “Yeah. Listen, Pony. Where are you right now?”

“By the Nightly Double.”

“Who’s with you?”

“Soda, but Dar—”

“Ok,” Darry cut him off. You couldn’t even tell that seconds earlier he was semi-amused by his youngest brother asking the stupidest question. Darry is always okay.

“Darry,” Pony gripped the receiver a bit tighter.

“_Listen_,” Darry hissed and Pony clamped his mouth shut. “Stay there. Tell Soda not to leave either. Y’all stay there, alright?”

“Okay,” Pony rested his head against the side of the booth.

“Good,” Darry muttered. “I’ll be there soon.” There was a pause. “Love you.”

“Um,” Pony said intelligently. Well, ain’t that something? Pony doesn’t remember the last time Darry had said that. Pony honestly didn’t think it was a part of his vocabulary. It’s not that he doesn’t think Darry loved him. Soda says Darry just showed it in a funny way like Dally and Steve. It still stung though. His chest a little too tight and his throat closed up. He barely managed to say a ‘love you too’ over the lump in his throat. He felt kind of giddy. Like he had too much sugar or something.

“Alright,” Darry’s voice cut through his tangled up thoughts. “I’ll be there soon. Be safe.”

“Yeah!” Pony tried not to cringe at how quickly he said that. He sounded too eager. “Bye, Darry.” Pony hung the receiver up with a soft click. “Darry says stay here.”

“Where would we even go?” Soda grinned then it fell away. His amber eyes were as bright as the street lamps outside. Posture rigid, Soda was squinting at a spot over by the clumps of trees near the Nightly Double. Pony followed his gaze, more than a little anxious, but he couldn’t see a thing. Not like how Soda could. Pony guessed he didn’t find anything cause Soda relaxed and smiled some more like he didn’t make his kid brother all fidgety. “You cold?”

“No,” Pony shook his head. Before he could ask what _that_ was all about, Darry had pulled up in his truck. Soda burst out of the phone booth.

“Shotgun!”

Pony followed after, a tad bit slower. He glanced over at where Soda was looking before Darry got there. There was a flash of blue, but it was gone just as quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm back!! My chapters are gonna be longer now, but hopefully I can still hit the deadlines I set.


	29. basically i decided to just shoehorn in more of the female cast

Pony stared at the bushes for a moment. The light was long gone. There was no rustling. No sigh from leaves moving as they are distrubed from their rest.  _ Shepard blue _ , he mused. That was the shade of blue. Soda honked the horn, forcing Pony from his thoughts.

“If you don’t hurry up, we’ll leave ya!” Soda teasingly started to slowly close the passenger door. Pony huffed, jogging over and getting into the truck. The heat was on. The hot air warmed his chilled limbs. Soda closed the door with a click. Pony couldn’t tell if it was the air or the soft talking from Darry and Soda, but his eyelids felt heavy. They dipped and dipped and dipped until they finally shut and he slipped into dreams of thin-lipped heroes and victorious battles.

-*-

“Give me a second, okay?” Pony said. Johnny nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. Pony opened his locker. There wasn’t much in it other than old beat up textbooks and a jacket that he keeps forgetting about. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bobbing of fiery hair.  _ Cherry _ .

She had her arms linked with Marcia like she often did. She looked nice today, but really she always looked nice. Having money and all. Green eyes met his and then...nothing. Cherry barely acknowledged him, just a glance before she turned fully back to Marcia. It wasn’t like either of them stopped for a chat or did anything more than soft smiles or a nod or a small wave.

There wasn’t enough time for anything else. Pony bit his lip and stared with unseeing eyes at the inside of his locker. She never ignored him before. Even when she’s so busy and stressed that a strand of her hair was out of place. It’s not like she has to greet him.

So  _ why _ ? Why did it  **hurt** so bad? Pony sniffed feebly, eyes watering and his hand creeping up to tangle in his shirt.  _ You’re not a baby, Pony _ .  _ Quit cryin’ about everything _ .  _ You take everything so personal like you’re under attack _ . Knuckles rapped against his locker door.

“You alright?” Johnny mumbled. Pony was glad he couldn’t see him. Johnny would always get this kicked puppy look on his face whenever Pony got all teary-eyed. Like he was just as hurt.

“Yeah,” Pony grabbed his math textbook. It was thick and the spine was worn to the point that he could peel some of it off if he wanted to. He shouldn’t cause it’s not his and he didn’t want Darry to have to pay a fine, but he could. Theoretically. He closed his locker a little too hard. “Got my textbook.”

“Looks heavy.” If Johnny knew Pony was forcibly redirecting his attention, he was at least nice enough to go along with it. He still looked worried though. Pony cradled the book with both arms.

“It’s not that bad,” Pony could feel the weight settling into his arms. He tried to sound nonchalant, but it sounded strained even to his own ears. And he’s gonna have to carry this old thing up a flight of stairs all because he skipped a math and that meant a textbook the size of a cinder block.  _ Fantastic _ . He’s having such a  _ grand _ time. Truly.

Johnny didn’t say anything, nudging Pony so he’d start moving. “If you say so.”

“Say, John.”

“Hm?”

“We’re laying low, right?” Pony asked slowly. “That’s what we’re gonna do?”

“Well, yeah,” Johnny said. “I mean, it’s not like we got any other options.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

Johnny frowned. “Pony…”

“I know, I know,” he would’ve tossed his hands up if they weren’t full. “‘You’re just a kid, Pone. Quit worryin’ about that stuff.’”

“You are just a kid.”

“You’re not that much older than me!”

“I’m also not normal,” Johnny pointed out. “Look. I’m worried too, but really we’re more focused on you than we are about the whole hunters and socs thing.” Pony frowned, mulling over what Johnny said. “If we lay low, then we’ll be fine. We’ve done it before.”

“Okay.”

Johnny patted Pony’s shoulder. “I have to go. Will you be alright until Dally shows up for ya?”

“Yeah,” Pony nodded. “It’s just a couple minutes right? No sweat.”

“Cool,” Johnny smiled and Pony couldn’t help but smile back. “See ya.”

“Mhm,” Pony watched Johnny walk away for a second.  _ He slouches a lot _ , Pony thought. Not even in that way greasers often did to look tuff or appear shifty. He slouches like he doesn’t want to be seen. Pony sighed, pushing the door that led to the stairs open with his hip. 

A dainty hand grasped his bicep and he couldn’t stop the sharp inhale he did. Nor could he help how his heart started beating fast enough to rival a hummingbird. Greyish-blue eyes squinted at him.

“Hey,” Angela said casually, head slightly inclined.

“H-hey,” Pony stuttered once his brain finally caught up with what he was seeing. Angela was the youngest of the Shepard clan — a lot like Pony, really — and one he rarely interacts with despite being in the same grade. Hell, he sees Tim more and he’s barely, if ever, around the scarred greaser. Everything he knows about Angela comes from other people. Like how she’s equal parts bark and bite and how she’s dating some boy named Byron or whatever. 

He knows she’s not Curly, but he still searched her face for him almost selfishly. They had the same eyes and nose and hair. His heart ached in a way that made him want to grasp at his shirt like that’ll ease the pain. “He misses you by the way.”

“Huh?”

“Curly,” she puts her hands on her hips. “You really should go see him. He keeps moping around the house and it’s gettin’ annoying.” Then she smiled. It was a small teasing one, but a smile nonetheless. Pony smiled too, a lot less nervous than before.

“I’ll go see him soon,” he said. He meant it too. His mind’s been so muddled about hunters and socs that he almost forgot how much he misses Curly. He missed him and the way his hair fell in his face and how he smiles and —  _ God _ , he misses him.

“Good,” Angela nodded. “Maybe if he sees you, he’ll stop whining.” She shrugs. “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. How much time until the late bell?”

“Um,” Pony glances up at the circle clock near the top of the staircase. It was a little hard to see from where they were standing, but it looked like... “Less than two minutes?”

“That’s fine,” she waves a hand. “I talk fast. You got a switchblade right?” 

“Yeah.” He didn’t have it on him right at this moment, which is kind of dumb of him, but he knows where it is. He thinks. It’s somewhere alright.

“You any good at it?”

“Uh, no?” It’s not like he gets the chance to use it.

“Here,” Angela dug through the pockets of her cardigan. She handed him a ripped piece of paper with a number on it. He fumbled with it until he finally managed to slide it into his textbook. “Your gang worries about you, right? Sylv’s a whiz at using switchblades.”

“I don't...know who that is?” he honestly didn’t. He wasn’t like Two-bit who could chameleon his way, drunk or sober, into other groups of greasers or Soda who was charismatic enough that it’s just easy to talk to him. There’s a reason Pony didn’t have a large friend group. 

Angela gave him a look. “You never met Sylvia?” 

Pony shook his head. If he’s thinking of the right person, and he really,  _ really _ hopes he is, Pony never met her. Everything he knows about Sylvia is from what Dally has said about her and Dally doesn’t like to talk about her. Johnny has met her though. Apparently.

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Angela patted his shoulder. “Anyway, give her a ring at some point. If you want. I’m gonna be late for History.” She stepped to the side, her curls bouncing with the movement. Pony nodded and began to make his ascent up the stairs.

“Hey, Angela!” Pony leaned over the railing. She paused in the doorway to look up at him. “Thanks.” He grinned and to his surprise she did it back. She had a really nice smile, he decided. One of those smiles you’d see on A-list actresses when they make appearances. In all seriousness, he kind of had to go. Like right  _ now _ . He skipped several steps and then another just cause he could.

Dally was waiting for him at the top. He looked out of place amongst the dwindling crowd. He looked so bored with a familiar switchblade in his hands.. Pony felt kind of bad for him. The towheaded greaser pushed himself off the wall. “You’re gonna be laaate.”

“Shut up!” Pony said with little heat. Dally hitched his arm around Pony’s shoulder, successfully putting him in a chokehold.

“Who the hell are ya talkin’ to, huh?” Dally tightened his grip. Just enough for Pony to feel it.

“You!” Pony tried to jostle him, but of course Dally was barely affected. 

“Gettin’ smart, are ya?”

“Dal,” Pony whined. At this rate, he’s going to actually be late. Dally did let up though. Eventually. And to Pony’s relief, the late bell rang as soon as he crossed the threshold of second period geometry. A fun class if you really like shapes and/or you want to die inside a little. Pony was personally the latter. He plopped down in a desk far in the back. He fiddled with his textbook for a bit, tuning out the teacher and Dally etching something new into the desk he forced some kid to leave. 

He flipped open to where he had shoved the number. Was he actually going to call her? Dally clearly doesn’t want him to know a single thing about her. He wasn’t going to call her.

-*-

Pony bit his lip. He glanced over at where Two-bit was loudly joking with some Brumly boys and then back to her. It was hard not to notice her. Pony could kind of see why Dally kinda, sorta, but not really, like her. At least from a visual standpoint. Sylvia was pretty in the way dangerous women often were. Her hair was the color of sand and cascaded down her back like a river. It contrasted against her dark roots and wine-colored eyes. She looked so serious sitting there in the booth.

There was another girl sitting just across from her. She didn’t look nearly as serious. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. She had a lot of freckles Pony realized. It was like she had her own personal constellation. ...He should stop staring now, huh? It’s easy. Just go up to her and have a conversation. The worst thing that’ll happen is that he dies in the process.

With a deep breath, Pony made his way over. He could feel Two-bit eyeing him, but he ignored it. Pony wrung his hands into the hem of his jacket. It wasn’t helping at all, but he could pretend that it was. “Hi,” he wilted under Sylvia’s intense gaze. “I called you earlier?”

“Oh,” even in person, Sylvia’s voice was husky like she had a cold or something. She leaned forward onto her elbows. “You’re Dally’s lil pup, right?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Sylvia,” she stuck her hand out. Pony shook it nervously. “That’s Evie.”

“Hi,” Pony mumbled. Evie smiled and gave him a small wave.

“Did Dal give you my number?” Sylvia patted the seat next to her. Pony tentatively sat down. Her perfume wasn’t too strong, but it still made his eyes sting a bit. “He said he didn’t want me to meet you. Can you believe that, Evie?” Evie hummed. “He makes it sound like I’m some awful person.”

“Angela gave it to me actually.”

“Angie?” she eyed him curiously.

“She said you were good at using switchblades,” Pony said. “I was wondering if you could teach me something?” It was silent other than Evie slurping the shake she got. Pony opened his mouth to say forget it, but Sylvia beat him to it.

“Does anyone from your gang know?”

“I mean,” Pony’s eyes flicked over to Two-bit. “Other than Two-bit, no.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll do it,” the corners of her mouth quirked up. “You got a blade on you right now?”

“Uh, yeah!” Pony pulled his switchblade out of his back pocket. Dally handed it to him after geometry and firmly suggested he kept it close by at all times. 

“Come on,” she pushed his knee so he’d slide out of the booth. Pony gave Two-bit a thumbs up as he followed the two girls out of the Dingo. It didn’t seem to calm the rusty-haired greaser who cocked an eyebrow and was right behind Pony as he left. 

The parking lot was close to empty other than a couple of hoods in the back of a truck playing some card game. Pony tugged on the back of Two-bit’s shirt to get his attention. “Don’t tell Dally.”

“No promises,” Two-bit shrugged. 

“Alright, little pup,” Sylvia put her hands on her hip. “Show me what ya got.” 

The sun bore into the back of his neck. Occasionally, Sylvia, or Two if he wasn’t talking Evie’s ear off, would fix what he was doing like how he was holding the blade or his stance. He actually learned a lot from Sylvia who was unyielding, but concise with her teachings. 

“Alright, Eve and I have to go,” Sylvia handed the switchblade back to him. “You keep workin’ on what I taught you.” Pony nodded. Evie walked up and linked arms with Sylvia. Together, the two girls walked out of the parking lot. Two-bit clapped Pony on the shoulder.

“Jeez louise, puppy,” he whistled. “You tryin’ to cut your fingers off?”

There were a couple small cuts littered on Pony’s fingers. None that required a bandaid. At least he doesn’t think. “No. I didn’t even feel it cut me.”

“Come on,” Two-bit tilted his head. “Darry’s gonna have my head cause you decided to cut ya self up.”

“I didn’t decide to do it! It just happened!”

Two-bit wrapped an arm around Pony’s shoulder and squeezed. “You did good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Two-bit nodded.

“Even when I sliced my hand open?”

“Mhm,” he knelt down and patted his back. “Come on.” Pony hesitated before hopping on. He held on as Two-bit wrapped his arms underneath Pony’s knees and stood up with ease. “Don’t choke me though, puppy.”

“Sorry,” Pony mumbled. He loosened his arms. “You weren’t just sayin’ that, were you?”

“Saying what?”

“That I did good. You weren’t saying that to be nice?”

“I don’t joke about stuff like that,” Two-bit smiled. It wasn’t one of his usual cocky grins. It was more genuine. “That’ll be real mean, you savvy? To say somethin’ like that and not mean it.”

Pony nodded, resting his chin on Two-bit’s shoulder. “Hey, Two?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.” 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Little Golden Riding Hood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22617589) by [AngelGal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelGal/pseuds/AngelGal)


End file.
